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yoonia · 1 year

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under the blankets (m) | jjk

➬ Title | Under The Blankets

➬ Summary | Even in the mornings, it is always hard to resist him. His presence alone captivates you, yet there is something else that always catches your eyes, drawing you to touch him. Not so surprisingly, he shares the same sentiment, though he has his own way of showing it to you. And neither of you mind it when things escalate further into something else that is not quite so innocent.

➥ Pairings | Tattooed boyfriend!Jungkook x Tattooed!reader

➥ Genre | PWP, Smut, Established Relationship au

➥ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; explicit sexual scenes, kissing, body (and tattoos) worshipping, sexual stimulation, teasing, edging, begging, hair pulling (Jungkook and his long hair), dirty talk, swearing, breast play, nipple play, nipple biting, biting, biting kink, clit play, fingering (vaginal/female receiver), oral sex (female receiver), hand job, morning sex, overstimulation, orgasm delay, rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, post-sex cuddling, aftercare

➥ Word count | 5,9k words

➥ Author/Posting date | @yoonia / Nov 17th, 2022

➥ Masterlist

➥ Author’s note | I have no idea where this came from. This Jungkook just came to me while I was in the middle of writing In Motion and I just had to write it down before it would drive me crazy. Actually, I blame @hisunshiine for this. All thanks to that incriminating tweet that you shared.

If you could list out all the things that you love the most about being with Jungkook, then you would definitely put small moments like this one right on the very top.

Waking up to his arm over your waist, his warmth pressing on your bare back, and his bare chest rising and falling against you each time he breathes. You have fallen asleep next to him right after having a long, intimate night.

You can even still feel the shadows of your climax pulsing in various places in your body. With his body heat engulfing you as you are lying pressed to each other, bare skin against bare skin, you still feel every remaining pulse and the ghosts of his touch that he placed on you the entire night.

Still barely awake and slightly drowsy, your gaze is drawn to his right arm that is being laid lazily across your waist in his sleep. The sleeve tattoo that starts from the back of his hand and goes all the way up to his strong shoulder appears in contrast to your skin, and for some obvious reason, you find it hard to look away from it.

There is an undying need for contact that suddenly overcomes you, which almost makes no sense to you at all, given that you are still connected to each other in a relaxed embrace, and there is also a need to touch the beautiful art you see on his skin, to run your fingers just to feel them under your skin.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand begins to move, and you start running the tip of your fingers along the inkwork on the length of his forearm, tracing every line, every curve, and then circling around the vibrant colours that are embellished on his skin.

Entranced in what you are doing, you don’t notice Jungkook slowly waking up from his sleep until he slightly shifts, jerking a little when your touch seems to tickle him.

“Ah, did I wake you up? I’m sorry,” you whisper to him with your hoarse voice and glance over your shoulder just as his chest rumbles. He makes a deep, sleepy groan as he stretches out his limbs, though his arm around your waist tightens slightly to pull you back to him before you could even try to get away.

“Hmmm—tickles,” he mumbles against your skin as he presses his lips on your bare shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” you answer, and a giggle slips out of you when his lips come in contact with your skin in another kiss. “I just love admiring your tattoos. They’re so beautiful.”

“Which one do you love most?”

“I don’t know,” you answer him as your fingers begin to absentmindedly reach down, moving along the lines of ink leading to his wrist, where you can feel his pulse slightly rising under your touch. “I love every single one of them.”

Another groan comes from him when he lands another kiss on your shoulder, moving a bit closer to your neck this time that you inadvertently gasp. “I love yours too,” he says, before shifting backwards and turning you around until you are lying on your back, smiling when he can look at your face to say, “I love everything you have on you.”

Then he bends down, reaching as low as he could get to your hips when he murmurs, “Like this one that you have on your hip,” before planting a kiss on your right hip, where a drawing of a pair of birds is beautifully drawn with black ink.

He kisses the art a few more times, making you feel warm inside and your body starts shivering before he moves up, tracing his lips on the tattoo of your birth flower which you had gotten done starting from your waist to the side of your chest.

“And I love this one. So pretty,” he murmurs softly between the kisses that he keeps giving on your skin, as if he is returning the favour of tracing your tattoos, only with his lips. “Just as pretty as you are.”

He doesn’t stop there, even when he has reached the end of the line. He continues tracing along your skin with trails of kisses as he moves towards the underside of your breast, each kiss is followed by light nips that have your heart fluttering inside your chest.

As your breath picks up, the heat in your body keeps burning and rising, Jungkook moves his lips up, not stopping until he reaches the bare tip of your breast. “But most of all, I love this one,” he murmurs with a groan leaving his lips, before he captures your nipple between his mouth and begins to suck.

“Oh, Jungkook—!”

Ignoring your cries, he holds your hips down with his strong hands and keeps sucking harder, pulling your nipple between his teeth and lapping the abused nub with his tongue once he hears your sharp cry.

He is relentless, however, not showing any sign of stopping. As if the sounds of your cries and moans and the way your chest is arching up wildly to push yourself further to his face are only made to encourage him to carry on.

“That’s—” you gasp, “That’s not—oh, God,” you keep on moaning when your body pulses, as his touches and kisses have awakened your need. “I thought we were talking about tattoos.”

Jungkook only chuckles deeply. “Were we? I wasn’t sure. I was only talking about everything that I love about you,” he teasingly says, slowly moving his lips to the other breast, ready to start all over again and give it the same treatment until you start losing your mind. “I might have to add that I love the way you are reacting to me. Just like what you are doing now.”

With those words, he takes the other nipple into his mouth, sucking and scraping his teeth around it until it hardens. The moment you feel his tongue brushing against the abused nub, you immediately feel like you are ready to combust as the pain blends together with pleasure. Your body jerks upward, hips rocking with every pulse you feel stirring from the depth of your core.

Seeing your response encourages him to do more, to go further, and he uses this chance to move over you. With his mouth still latched onto your nipple, the hand that he isn’t using to hold your waist down starts making its way up, capturing the neglected breast that he had left behind.

It only takes a brush of his palm on the hardened tip to send you rocking harder against him, and you start rolling your hips against his torso as he begins stimulating your nipple with his fingers, pinching and pulling it in between while his mouth begins to work the other at the same time.

Your eyes are closed shut with how intense the rush of pleasure he is giving you has become, yet your mouth falls open with a series of moans coming out of you. Jungkook keeps on working on your body, without giving you a chance to rest or escape from his ministrations until there is really nowhere else to go but higher up to your divine bliss.

But there is still something missing. Despite feeling as if you are close to plunging over the edge. Even if your body has turned into a bundle of exploding nerves, they are not close enough to ease the pulses inside you, making you feel empty when the muscles between your legs are contracting against nothing but an empty void.

Your hand finds purchase in his messy hair. His soft curls slip between your fingers as you give them a tight grip just to have something to hold on to. You have no idea if you want to pull him up and push him away when it starts to feel too much yet you need so much more, you just don’t want him to stop.

Your hips rise up as his teeth come brushing across your nipple, and you quiver beneath him the moment your pubic bone comes in contact with his toned torso. Finding pleasure from the touch, you do it again, and again, repeating it until you find the perfect angle to feel each graze deep inside. Before you know it, you are humping against his body, skin against skin, slowly searching for a way to reach your climax.

But just as you are slowly finding your way to the edge, Jungkook stops. He unlatches his mouth from you with a pop and pulls his hand away. With a whine, you open your eyes, ready to scold him for denying your pleasure, only to find him grinning as he bends down, kissing the soft mounds of your breasts with a grin on his face before he starts making his way down.

“I’m not done yet,” he whispers against your skin as he keeps kissing his way down your torso, making a brief stop once again at the inkwork that you have on your hip. He gives it a light nip, causing you to gasp and finally release your hold on his hair as he continues to move.

Jungkook gazes up as he slides lower, his eyes looking dark and hungry as he stares deeply at your face, gauging your reaction. Your breath is caught when he hovers his lips over your throbbing center, his breath falling subtly on your folds as he stops there.

Just when you think that he would continue and press his lips right where you are pulsing with pure need, he moves past it, crawling lower to the apex of your thigh when he finally lands a kiss on your skin.

You bite your lips to stop yourself from releasing a desperate whine and start begging him to come back, knowing what game he is playing. And he continues to take his time with it, as he trails his kisses down instead of moving up. The further he moves away from your center, the harder it is for you to hold back, until an animalistic sound slips out from the depth of your throat.

To the sound of your moan, his eyes find your face once again. This time, Jungkook begins to kiss his way up, moving even slower that your body begins to tense, anticipating, and eagerly waiting. This time, your reaction only urges him to tease you further.

He halts once again just when he is close enough to your center and nips at your skin, leaving a final love bite at the apex of your thigh which causes your legs to start trembling around his head. It lands so close to your folds that you can feel the pulses of need within you rising, yet it still feels too far from the source of your desire that it makes you grow even more desperate, more needy, drawing a helpless cry slipping from you.

“Please,” you start pleading with him when you just cannot take it anymore, the words start coming out before you can stop yourself. “Please, Jungkook. Put your mouth on me.”

Pressing his lips on your skin, merely an inch upward from before, Jungkook softly chuckles. “Do you want me to taste you that badly?”

“Yes,” you answer him, and your body starts moving on its own. Your hips begin to rock on the bed, as if trying to get closer to his face. “I want your mouth on me. Your fingers. Anything. I need you, Jungkook. Please—”

At this point, you really have no idea what you are saying anymore. As if your brain has become a complete mush with how turned on you are. It doesn’t help that your body is still overly sensitive from the rough fucking he gave you last night.

The ghosts of last night’s release have been awakened and turned into a need. They have been pulsing so fiercely from the first touch and have only been growing more and more intense since.

“So you want me to touch you—” he asks you with a whisper, lips hovering right at your center, “—here?” His soft breath falls on your folds just then, causing you to tremble.

Not only have you grown sensitive with your need, but apparently you have also grown soaking wet with your arousal, and it is clear that he is enjoying the sight of it when he looks down, staring closely at your pussy with dilated eyes.

“Jungkook—” you gasp, feeling like you can barely think clearly that every other word you are trying to say simply dies in your lips.

“Is that a yes?” he asks, teasing you with a chuckle, while you have tears building in the corner of your eyes.

“Yes,” you answer with a moan. “Yes, Jungkook. Please, I want you to—”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Jungkook slowly leans forward and gently presses his lips on your folds, making you jerk against him. He pulls back, only to bring his hand up to touch your outer lips and start running his thumb and forefinger up and down.

He starts with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side, yet you can still feel his touch everywhere. Each downstroke he makes gives a light pull against your clit without giving any direct contact, while each time his fingers come back up, he slowly spreads your folds open for him, briefly allowing your slickness to come in contact with the cold breeze of air.

Up and down he continues to stroke his fingers on your folds, each time moving them closer to the center, brushing against your inner folds and picking up your growing slickness. The steady movement of his fingers draws your body to react, your hips begin to roll against his touch, rocking at the same exact rhythm that he is making.

Unable to find something to hold onto, you bury your fingers in the messy sheets lying beneath you, pulling at them stronger with each strong pulse that he ignites from your core.

“Oh, Jungkook. Yess—” you breathe out, moaning and gasping at his touch, letting him know how good he is making you feel.

As your voice becomes louder, he begins moving his thumb over your clitoris, using your slickness to give it a few steady strokes. Up and down, then they come rolling in circles. He keeps switching his ministration to each reaction you are giving him.

He continues until the sound of your breath grows faster, and then he tenderly spreads you open, before his mouth comes to replace his fingers and captures your clitoris between his sinful lips. Your body grows still, yet your legs start quivering roughly on either side of his head when the rush of pleasure he gives upon contact goes straight to your head.

Just like how he worked his mouth and tongue on your breasts, he does the same with your clit, as he uses his mouth to suck your delicate petal, switching between gentle and rough. The pleasure that comes from each suck intensifies when you feel the cold touch of his lip piercing grazing against your hot skin, causing you to release a breathless cry whenever it happens.

You feel yourself rising so fast once again, yet the more you begin to feel the pleasure increasing, Jungkook slows down and rolls his tongue around and over your clit to ease you back down. He constantly brings you up to bliss only to bring you down before your body could detonate into an orgasm much too soon to his liking.

Again, he is teasing you, pushing you to the edge only to deny your release until the sound of your pleas starts echoing through the room.

With his mouth still latched on your swollen clit, he slips his finger between your folds, once again gathering your slickness with a few gentle strokes. You are too lost in your drunken bliss to notice him watching you with awe.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he finds your wet entrance and starts moving his finger in circles, teasing and coaxing your pussy until he is completely coated with your arousal to make it easier for him to slowly push his way in. He barely has the first knuckle penetrating you when your hips rise up from the bed, so he places his other palm on your lower torso to keep you down.

Your mouth falls open in surprise and your eyes flutter open to look down at him. He unlatches his mouth from you briefly only to ask, “Are you okay, baby?”

Unable to find your voice, you can only nod your head, biting your lip when you see him smile, his lips glow under the dim light with your slickness. “Relax, baby. Breathe slowly,” he whispers with a deep voice, and his face disappears between your legs as he comes back down to your pussy.

Your breath becomes slightly ragged with anticipation as you feel his lips brushing against your folds. But instead of returning to continue what he was doing with his hungry mouth, he simply leaves small kisses on your folds, your clit, while he works his finger in, pulling it out a little then pushing back in.

He repeats it a few more times, going slightly deeper each time he comes back inside you until his finger is fully buried inside you. It feels so good that the insistent throb of your pussy pulses around his digit as if it was his cock buried deep inside.

Now that you are used to him inside you, he finds it easier to move in and out of you. He curves his finger a little to rub against your pussy walls, causing you to tremble and shake when he hits your sweet spot. Keeping a steady rhythm, he waits until your body is beginning to show him the telltale signs of your orgasm before he finally lunges forward, capturing your clit with his mouth in a tight clasp.

You let out a loud gasp right upon contact. "Oh god. Oh fuck. Jungkook, don't stop!"

You are sure that he can easily tell how close you are to the edge from the cries coming out of your lips, and judging from the intense way he is sucking you, his mouth and tongue working in the same rhythm as the strokes of his finger which keeps increasing its speed, you know that he is done teasing you.

“Touch your breast for me, baby,” you faintly hear him whisper against your pussy before his mouth returns to latch on to your clit again.

As if his words are a spell to entice you, your hand moves to cup your own breast and give it a light squeeze. Through your muddled brain, you almost struggle to find the sensitive tip of your breast, still slightly hardened after what Jungkook did to you.

You cry out to embrace the rush that rocks through your body before using your fingers to stimulate yourself and start pressing your palm to knead your soft mound. Your other hand automatically makes its way down, once again finding purchase in his hair. The tight clutch you have on his hair is a complete opposite to the gentleness you give yourself, but it is enough to help you hold on as he takes you for a ride, when the work of his mouth and his strong finger in your pussy together is mercilessly pushing you to the edge.

Feeling desperate yet completely high from the pleasure, your hips begin moving in response to his ministrations, even matching his rhythms perfectly. You rise up as he sucks you roughly, and then you roll your hips down onto his face to ride out the wave that he causes when he softens up with his tongue.

“Don’t hold back, baby. Come for me,” you barely hear his words between the strong pulse of your heartbeat that fills your brain.

But your body listens, and your entire being simply plunges over the edge.

Right at the same time, Jungkook’s finger finds the spot inside you that triggers the epic release that has been building up from the very first touch. Wave after wave of nearly unbearable pleasure overtakes you, and you embrace it with a long wail while Jungkook helps you ride it out, the strokes of his finger continue with his mouth devouring your sweet release.

“Oh, God,” you whimper repeatedly between your ragged breaths as Jungkook slowly pulls away, easing you down from your high with soft kisses around your throbbing pussy.

Yet the spasms of your climax begin to pulse into something more when he pulls out his finger, leaving behind nothing but a void. “Please, Jungkook…,” you find yourself pleading with him. “I need...just...something more."

A groan slips out of him. “More, baby?” he asks as he slowly climbs his way up. He is hovering on top of you when you slowly open your eyes. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, you raise your arms and wrap them around his neck. “Please, baby,” you beg him one more time, drawing a slow smile on his face that glistens with your release.

His tongue comes out just then, licking away the slickness on his lips with a hum, enjoying your taste on his tongue. “Tell me what you want,” he says, “Let me hear it.”

Your heartbeat starts pounding in your chest just then, and your skin flushes not with desire this time, but with bashfulness when you finally say, “I want your cock. I want you inside me.”

With a soft chuckle, Jungkook bends down, letting you pull him to you as he presses his lips on yours. The kiss begins gently, but it still draws a soft moan from you when your breasts incidentally brush against his bare chest, causing you to shudder beneath him. You let out a gasp into the kiss when he moves his hand, brushing against the underside of your breast that is still sensitive to the touch.

He takes the chance to deepen the kiss, pressing harder onto your mouth before slipping his tongue out, seeking entrance. You can taste yourself when your tongues brush against one another, which only turns you on even further. The feeling draws a muffled moan from you which he gladly swallows with his hot kiss.

Jungkook takes your hand and slowly brings it down with him between your entwined bodies. He pulls away from the kiss as he guides you to touch his cock. You are not surprised to find him already fully erect, and you love how hard and rigid he feels when you wrap your fingers around his width, feeling its sturdy weight against your palm as you begin to stroke him gently.

His head drops onto the nape of your neck as you stroke gently up and down his length. You enjoy the way he softly moans against your skin and when you feel his body shuddering with each stroke. It gives you a sense of pleasure knowing that you are affecting him so much, and you suddenly feel like giving back everything that he made you feel earlier.

“Damn it, baby. That feels good,” he groans against your skin. He catches your wrist to stop you before you could go further. “I thought you want this cock? Let me be inside you, baby.”

With the reminder of your plea, your pussy throbs. You nod your head and he pulls back, holding himself up with his elbow as he looks down, watching you closely as you start dragging the tip of his cock up and down the length of your slit.

You know that he can feel your heat, and he clenches his jaw tightly as the slickness of your arousal gathers around the head of his cock, making it easy for him to slide between your folds.

His arm flexes as he pushes himself up and grabs hold onto your hips, ready to take over. Wrapping his palm around his girth, his eyes flicker to your face for a brief moment, making sure that you are ready.

But you have been ready. Spreading your legs wider for him, you reach down, using your fingers to spread your folds open and he follows through by aligning himself right at your hot entrance.

Wasting no time, he pushes forward. You moan together as he enters you, becoming one as his cock slides into you with one firm thrust. Instead of feeling any pain or discomfort with the sudden fullness, your pussy walls throb against him, welcoming him home. It feels glorious when the waves of your previous climax begin to rise again, growing intensely quicker this time as if you had barely come down from your previous high.

With a groan, Jungkook begins to move. Rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, he slides his cock in and out of you, burying himself deeper and deeper before he slowly begins increasing his speed.

Your body jerks wildly each time he pushes deep into the hilt of your pussy. Noticing this, he keeps repeating his movement, as he keeps thrusting against the very same spot until your moans grow into cries of pleasure.

Returning the favour and feeling like the edge is near, you push your hips up a little, giving him a new angle while allowing you to push back up, making it possible for his cock to slide in and out of you more fluidly. Your hands reach out to him, holding onto his hips to push him deeper with each thrust he is giving you.

It feels too good, so good that you can no longer hold back from crying out to him, "Harder, Jungkook. Harder!”

Your cries snap him into action and his hands move down to your bottom cheeks, holding you up to him as he starts pounding harder into you. Your head falls back into the pillows as you are suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation running through you. Your body arches with how intense it feels, and just how good the pain that he is inflicting on you from his rough pounding.

The pleasure feels maddening. But you refuse to close your eyes.

Blinking away your tears, you keep your gaze on your lover, capturing yet another moment that you want to remember for the rest of your life.

Even in moments like this one, he is truly the most magnificent-looking human being you have ever met and come across. The way his arms are flexing as he is holding you up, how his strong fingers would feel silky smooth when he runs them up and down your curves, yet he would still hold you with a possessive grip when he is holding you up to him like this.

How the beautiful ink work on his skin sometimes looks as if they are dancing with every flex, every contraction of muscles., and with every subtle movement that he makes when he is drawing you even nearer to the peak of pleasure.

You look down where you are joined, watching how his hips move so effortlessly in his constant thrusts and how perfect he feels inside you. His toned torso flexes with each jerk of his hips, and you love the shudders that appear on his body when your muscles flutter around his cock with each deep thrust.

Your gaze moves upward to his chest which is glowing with the thin coat of his sweat. You feel the urge to run your fingers up his chest and shoulders, needing to feel his heartbeat to see if it is beating just as intensely as yours.

But you keep your hands on his hips, gripping harder with your nails buried into his skin as you take every pounding, embracing every wave of pleasure that he is giving you. He cries out and tenses for a moment under your tight grip, yet his thrusts never truly stop. His jerks become unsteady for a brief moment but he holds himself together to keep his pace, quickening and giving it harder to you when he starts again.

At the sound of his voice, you look up at his face and your heartbeat flutters. His long and messy hair has fallen over, curtaining his beautiful face. It somehow makes him look even more ethereal, and captivating, especially in the way he is clenching his jaw while he is making love to you.

The moment your gazes meet each other, your gaze finding his eyes looking back at you with clear desire, something inside you snaps. The muscles in your core begin to coil, tightening and constricting around him right as the spasms of your climax are starting to make their appearance, pushing through the fog inside your head until you find yourself clinging to the edge.

Jungkook moves his hand down to where you are joined. His fingers slip between your parted folds, finding your throbbing clit where he gives a gentle brush, causing the first wave of your orgasm to rise from within.

"I think...,” you gasp out. “I’m…close," you try to say in between breaths, just as your body trembles beneath him, ready to erupt into bliss. “I’m going to…”

“Yes, baby. Cum for me,” he growls breathlessly through his rapid pounding. “Cum around my cock. Let me feel you.”

With his words, you let yourself go. Wave after wave of pleasure comes rushing through your body, erupting in the most intense way.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!" you cry out as your body convulses, and your body jerks against him once, twice, three times, until his final thrust puts you right at the peak of your climax. "Oh god, oh Jungkook, oh god.”

Between your cries of pleasure, you can hear the sound of his voice, crying out with a voice so deep that you barely recognise it. An intense shudder rocks through his body as his cock brushes against your convulsing walls, triggering his climax on his next thrust.

You lift your hips one last time and push against him just as the length of his cock pulses and he immediately erupts inside you. His hips continue to buck wildly against you as an unending stream of his climax pours into you.

You can feel its warmth filling you up, and together you ride the waves of both of your pleasure as the spasms inside you repeat again, and again, each one coming to you a bit less intense than the previous, until they finally come to halt.

With one last shudder and a deep exhale of breath, Jungkook’s hips slow down to a full stop. He releases a deep gasp as he finally releases his hold on you and falls over your body, exhausted and sated. Still buried inside you, Jungkook wraps his arms around you.

Being pressed against his chest allows you to feel his rapid heartbeat, still racing in the aftermath of his orgasm, while you feel your own subsiding into its normal state when you feel his body heat pressing against you.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he softly asks you, and you slowly shake your head.

“Absolutely not. That was so good. It felt amazing,” you say to him as you look up, admiring his beauty.

The afterglow of his release is clear on his face, and his eyes are now glowing with so much love that it brings a new sense of warmth inside your chest. You bring your hands up, brushing his long hair back so you can see his face more clearly. They are completely soaked with his sweat that some strands are plastered to his face while some even get stuck on his lip piercing before you brush them away.

Your small gesture draws a smile to his face, then he turns to press his lips on your palm, kissing it as he gently sighs with a sense of relief and pride. In return, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him down until your lips find each other in a deep, longing kiss which lingers a bit too long than what you expect it to be.

As you slowly grow lax beneath him, Jungkook continues kissing you, doing it a bit more gently this time until his breathing returns completely to normal. Then he moves to trace his lips across your chin, down to your neck, before he buries his face in the nape of your neck where he releases another sigh.

Wordlessly you lay there, body pressing against body, arms and legs entwining together, all while the sounds of your heartbeat join into one rhythm. You feel his smile growing against your skin when you try to shift, feeling the discomfort from his cum pooling inside you while his cock softens as it remains in its place.

He breathes in the scent of your hair one last time before he finally pulls out of you, taking a few drops of his cum in his exit. He is quick to find a forgotten shirt to help clean you up, then make a quick work of tossing it away before taking you back in his arms again as he collapses into the bed.

Just like always, he pulls you to him with your back pressed to his chest, his arm resting lazily on your waist.

“So—” he says, breathing in your hair deeply before moving to kiss the nape of your neck. “What are you planning to do today?” he asks with his lips pressing into your ear and lazily nipping at your lobe.

“I don’t know,” you answer with an exhausted chuckle. “I think I might need a short nap. You’ve completely drained me. No, wait—shower. We need a shower,” you say to him in your drowsy state of mind, not realising that your fingers have somehow found their way to his arm again, and that you have begun tracing the ink work on his skin absentmindedly while you are thinking deeply.

You don’t notice what you are doing until Jungkook moves his hand, cupping your bare breast until you gasp at his touch.

“Shower sounds good,” he calmly says, as if he isn’t deliberately rising the shivers in your body with his touch. “I’ll help,” he adds, “I haven’t got the chance to kiss this tattoo you have on your back and the new one you just got on your thigh, have I?”

As if making a point, Jungkook presses his lips right at the back of your neck, about an inch above where your back tattoo starts.

You nervously laugh, knowing what would entail if things continue to be how he wants them to while trying to hide how he is already triggering your body to react to him. A flutter rises in your chest as he kneads your breast gently, and it begins to surge downwards, past the trails of kisses he is leaving on your skin and ends right between your legs where a pulse rises back up again.

“Oh, boy,” you sigh, knowing that there is no stopping him. Not when your nerves have been awakened to make you want him so badly as well.

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hwaightme · 2 months

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Both

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR STAR’S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)(masterlist) (taglist)

❤️‍🔥 pairing: husband!seonghwa x gn!afab!reader ❤️‍🔥 genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established long-term relationship ❤️‍🔥 summary: all work and no play makes seonghwa a needy boy; your husband wants you. now. and he will use any means necessary to get you where he wants you. being in the office is not a problem when you are one message away... ❤️‍🔥 wordcount: 8.6k total ❤️‍🔥 warnings/tags: semi-edited, hwa duality, businessperson!reader, mention of offices/presentations/corporate culture, nonidol!hwa, married but permanently in honeymoon phase, two people very in love, petnames, mutual respect, trust and adoration, seonghwa is smitten, reader wears heels, words crazy+drunk used ❤️‍🔥 taglist: at the bottom of the fic ❤️‍🔥 a/n: spiralled into ponderings with @byuntrash101 (ily), and my fingers slipped. oops. any notes, asks, reblogs appreciated <3 much love!

❤️‍🔥 taglist: sexting, praise, petnames (love, darling, my love, pretty, gorgeous...), consent is king, unprotected sex (consider before you deliver), mating press/missionary (vanilla but make it spicy), 69 (blowjob+eating out), creampie, cumeating, slight spit kink, sprinklings of body worship, possessive terms (my/mine), light overstimulation, implied aftercare

“How do I look?” you called out to your husband, who was sitting behind you on your shared bed, feline in the way he was leaning back on his arms, regarding you through half-shut, curious eyes.

Unlike you, he had the day free, but even so decided to go through the motions of a morning routine with you, though finalising it with a considerably less formal outfit. Dressed in a black sweater and matching black trousers, Seonghwa had stated that he was going to go out to get some fresh produce from the market while it was still early, and the rush of crowds did not plague the city just yet. Patiently, he was waiting for you to be ready to head out to work, and he, to comfortably support the home front for today.

“Hm, you look like me having to come to work with you and me having a blast telling waves of potential suitors that you are off limits.” He responded as a matter of factly. Nevertheless, you caught a cheeky grin in the mirror as he scanned you up and down with the intensity of a burning sun.

“Oh … Hwa, what if I want the attention? And what are you going to do about the stakeholders I’ll be speaking to, hm?” You asked him coyly, finally managing to get your second earring on and tapping it with your manicured finger for good measure.

“Something tells me that I’ll have to step in and act like security.”

You chuckled, taken aback, pleasantly lightheaded because of Seonghwa’s early morning flirtations. With one final once over, he smoothed the bed sheets on either side of him and rose up to step right behind you, placing both hands under your suit jacket and on your waist, leaning closer and closer until he could place a soft kiss on the side of your neck which, thanks to your hairstyle, was exposed to the attention.

The sleek, deep navy suit was an elegant number, peaked lapels on the single-breasted jacket perfectly pressed, the wide-legged trousers perfectly guiding towards the heels - pumps in a nude beige, and the white asymmetrical short-sleeved shirt underneath all combining to create perfect harmony. You had chosen elegance over daring energetic appeal today, picking pearl-based jewellery which, upon inspection, was exactly how you had imagined it would be with the outfit. A delicate balance was struck, and was reminiscent of how your husband was gingerly manoeuvring over and around you, until he appeared to have had enough with stalling.

Seonghwa’s arms lazily slid forwards, wrapping a little tighter around you, while his head moved to nudge you towards himself with his chin, until he could rest his head on your shoulder comfortably. Initially wishing to pry yourself away given how little time you had left if you were to make it to the office at a reasonable time, your hands rushed to his own, but as your husband began to sway side to side, blissfully taking in the image in the mirror, you left them there, admiring the priceless scene, and the way in which his hands fit perfectly over yours, the rings matching, another sign of your union completing the masterpiece in the reflection.

"Come on, Hwa, I’ll be late at this rate."

"What's it got to do with me, ma'am? I finished getting dressed fifteen minutes ago, was sitting here, all good and ready for you-" ignoring the word choice, you persisted:

"Because a certain someone was hogging the shower-"

"I told you, you could join." heat flushed to your cheeks as you caught Seonghwa’s less than innocent expression, making you remember exactly why you were not planning to get into any intimate shared space with this alluring schemer before work. Planting a feather-light kiss on your sensitive skin, he was threatening to make you lose track of time entirely. Attempting to wipe the action from immediate perception, you focused on the sensation of tugging on one of your earrings, anything to ground you and to return you into the headspace of the meetings you had scheduled and been booked into for the day, along with the details and key takeaways for each one.

You had always been a fighter in the professional world, and this was one of the many things that Seonghwa adored about you. Having met at a networking event, that was the side of you he had come to be acquainted with first, and had fallen head over heels for. A sublime intensity that came with the passion you had for your work, a fire that ignited when you planned ahead, led teams and managed international ventures were so beautifully contained within you and formulated the intricate maze of your psyche that Seonghwa could not help but want to drown in it, and spend eternity observing you in action. He himself had stepped away from the strict and rigorous structures of the corporate world, instead preferring to offer independent consultation services, but to see you flourish, and to be there for your journey and to have you unconditionally support his decisions and experiments too was nothing short of a blessing. Perhaps the one side effect, a tiny challenge that came with having you as his life partner, his love and his spouse is mornings like this, when you were in the process of escaping for work, driven and ready for battle, your armour being one of the stylish suits of impeccable quality that you took great pains to keep pristine. And the more you did so, the stronger was his desire to see if he could ruin just one, at least one, perhaps the one you were wearing right now. Despite the fact that he had seen you in such garments more times than either of you could possibly count or remember, it made him more drawn to you and involuntarily seduced than he would ever dare admit. Seonghwa’s grip on your hips inadvertently tightened as gaze flashed upwards, settling on the reflection of your perfectly plump, tinted lips in the mirror.

“Besides… As you know, I was making sure that the adjustments were all fine and the overall outfit would be fine for the quarterly review meeting,” you recalled your last-minute concerns over whether the selection was reasonable for meeting persons from the executive office, even though you were not sure if you even had outfits in your job-related arsenal that would not be appropriate, “You could have helped by the way.”

"I did! I gave the fit the Seonghwa seal of approval, but now... honestly am regretting it because you look illegal..."

He turned his attention back to the delicate skin around your neck, planting a couple more kisses with mischief glowing in his eyes. You giggled as his breath left a ticklish sensation and you nearly knocked your head with his in an attempt to shy away.

"And how do you think I feel, leaving you at home like this?”, you let your gaze settle on your husband, a ghost of a smirk revealing itself on your lips, “I need to brush up on my cat fighting techniques, mister handsome, and maybe learn how to teleport" Put him in a rag and he would still look spectacular. Like this, in a relaxed, casual outfit that ideally matched his dark locks, highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the jawline models would be jealous of, he was heavenly - something which you never failed to remind him of no matter what he was wearing. It was almost a shame that you had to leave for work instead of admiring this beauty for the entire day and an eternity more. You bit the inside of your cheek, banishing less than safe for work ponderings from your mind.

"Woah, Y/N, fighting for me? That's kind of - I do not think I should say what I am thinking."

"You’re being awfully cheeky this morning!" You lightly slapped the back of his hand and spun around, coming closer until only a mere couple of centimetres separated you. "What else can a kitty do with her claws?"

"I mean... my back has no complaints." He speedily responded, tightening his hold on your waist and attempting to capture your lips with his. But at this point, you had gotten good enough at reading Seonghwa to move away at the last second, resulting in a loud smooch right against your jawbone, followed by a purposefully childish whine, "Oh darling you are being a tease."

"Naugh- ty- Seonghwa, no kisses. I took too long to line my cupid's bow. I'm not about to let you ruin it."

You tried to wiggle away, wondering if your suit was actually creaseproof as the assistant at the boutique had advertised, but he was having none of it, now grabbing your hands and swinging them side to side. With his prior seductive aura having subsided after your decisive, playful rejection, Seonghwa’s glances were in many ways boyish, permission-seeking. The most miniscule hint of a pout made its way to his lips as he peered what had to be directly into your heart and intertwined your fingers together, stopping the motion.

“Y/N…”

“Keep this thought in mind, lovely, will you be able to?” you purred, amused at your husband’s slow blinking, reminiscent of an affectionate cat.

“Of course,” you dodged another attempt by him to nuzzle into your neck with a soft, melodic laugh, and pulled Seonghwa to follow you out of the bedroom, “Ah, careful,” he rushed to block the door frame, chuckling at your eagerness to get to the hustle and bustle of your day, even though just a little while ago you still were retaining that light nervousness, likely overthinking every interaction that was not even likely to happen. After all, this was a job only you could do, and it was something that you did better than anyone else. You owned what you did, and everyone knew it.

As you grabbed your keys, and were about to bid farewell to your husband before starting your commute, you sensed his energy shifting to that of scheming.

Seonghwa had a trial to face, and it presented itself with how stunning you looked in the glimmering golden light of the early morning, and how your every step almost sent a shiver up his spine. Wherever you were, he always managed to find you in one sweeping gaze, whether you were on the other side of a room or a few steps away. One of a kind, captivating, the world turned around you whether you would agree with Seonghwa or not. It was a simple fact. And here, in your apartment, where it was just you and him, it was impossible to ignore how his vision was occupied by you, and only you. He was consumed by the effortless charm you radiated, and when you caught him staring, how you lifted one shoulder and responded with a cheeky grin - a gesture of faux coyness. He clenched a hand hidden behind his back into a tight fist until his knuckles turned white, mutely regarding your final preparations before you would disappear behind the door. His thoughts were far away from what he had planned to do today, cursing how you had teased him and blaming routines - your husband would have preferred to take you and himself apart right here right now, unravel the tension that was so obvious he could almost taste it. He bit his lower lip as you leaned down to shift your footing in one of your heels, and barely suppressed a hiss as you glided back up, the pace of the motion highlighting how your curves were complemented by the suit. You were enticing, and watching your back Seonghwa could not help but remember the sensation of running his hand across it, caressing your body, guiding it as you turned into a goddess in the dimmed lights of your shared bedroom, connected with him in every way possible. You smiled at him as though you were not aware of the lustful darkness that began to consume his mind, lips tantalising, dangerous, his favourite heavenly nectar. This was unbearable.

It was impossible to ignore the searing gaze that seemed to have never left you since you had first returned it in the mirror, and was the last thing you experienced as you shut the front door. You kept the radio in your car silent, afraid that your thoughts would be louder than the music either way. Your husband was up to something, determined, and focused on you. And it was beyond exciting. This undercurrent of energy that was eternal, and ran through anything and everything he did was one of the multitude of reasons why you loved him. He was enigmatic, and yet so easy for you to explore. He had opened himself up to you so readily, revealing the edges of his vibrant soul that was so unparalleled and high octane that you swore that after meeting him, you ceased to breathe oxygen and could only ever inhale the adoration he provided. He was a dreamer, an ideator, a man devoted to the search for happiness, and that balanced you out so perfectly - it had only been a month when you had decided for yourself that Seonghwa was the one for you, and you would never let go. He was an eternal surprise, an enigma that was as soft and lovely as a cat, but wrapping itself around you like a serpent, slow and sensual. You wondered, as the day commenced and you were pulled into your first meeting, then another, just what your husband had crafted in his beautiful mind palace.

It did not take too long for the plan to reveal itself. Fortunately, because you did not enjoy facing unknowns. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of a meeting with some rather senior people. On the brighter side, you had proposed a five minute break before continuing the session so you had at least a couple of breaths to re-compose yourself, but other than that… it was only you, the phone that you were squeezing so hard in your hand that it could break, and the daring photograph blaring on the screen, setting you on fire. You had exchanged a couple of messages with Seonghwa prior to the meeting, his responses being cryptic and dizzyingly abstract, but nothing could have prepared you for the surprise.

Your other hand quickly found your thigh, gripping onto it so that you would not break your stoic disposition with a shaking leg, and you glanced side to side to make sure that the colleagues next to you had not returned to the room yet, and the others were preoccupied with their own devices or were deep in mundane conversation. So, this was what he was so enthusiastic about down following the morning antics. Clearly, you had not been passive enough for him to dismiss your glances in his direction - if you were to be honest, you had been eyeing him up and down from the moment he intentionally walked into you while changing, making you wonder how it was possible for you to want him more and more with each passing day, rather than feelings of attraction and enamourment subsiding with marriage and with sharing all the ups and downs. Instead, both of you were each other’s paradise, and that presented itself in all forms of desire. As you regarded Seonghwa’s form in the picture, lightly biting your lower lip as you tried to think of how you could respond to it, you could only be amused by how he knew exactly what buttons to press, and how to reignite what you had tried to pause earlier this morning - simply as an attempt to retain your sanity for handling paperwork and handshakes.

Resting on the chair that was in your bedroom, he made sure to accentuate his impeccable form, and how his long hair suited him so spectacularly. He had changed outfits - just for you, and that made you want to devour him all the more. Your precious husband who looked like sin. The vibrant beige jacket, which appeared almost brown in the sensually dimmed lamplight, hung freely over his upper body, revealing a tastefully bare abdomen, and consequently, the lovebites you had managed to leave above his heart and towards his collarbones after a particularly intense night a couple of days ago - they had only now begun to show signs of fading. Towards the very bottom of the picture you could spot the edge of a matching pair of trousers, black belt intentionally loosened to make your imagination run wild. A centrepiece, his black silver necklace and a perfectly paired earring, were the icing on top of the cake, their shimmer beckoning you. It was impossible to choose what to focus on; the head tilt, the elegant hand on which he was practically resting his head, how one leg had been thrown over the other - confident, in his element, so very Seonghwa that it made you hurt; and want him. Desperately. You shut your eyes and rolled them as you imagined the smirk on his face as he sent the image, knowing exactly what state he would pause you in, and hurl you into. When your husband was in the mood, it gave him an additional thrill to either catch you off-guard completely with bold advances and compliments, or fluster you until you were melting in his arms. And you did not mind one bit; that was your time to let go, to give up your stresses and iron grip and let all strains snap and become threads with which Seonghwa could pull at your very essence, praising you for how well you could follow his guidance, and just how perfect you were for him. You did not notice how your thumb was merely hovering over the keyboard until another message slid into view, and you barely suppressed a gasp, again looking up to make sure no one was watching you.

“Missing you, your taste, your everything, darling,”

This was the last straw, as you almost forgot what meeting you were in, where you were, how you were supposed to behave. You jolted upright, standing straight and excused yourself with a bow of the head, pointing at your phone - with the screen turned towards you. It was easy enough to get out, and storming down the corridor until you were out of everybody’s earshot, you pressed onto the call button, only to be met with a deep chuckle after a single ring. You could envision him still sitting on the chair, head tilted back to stare at the ceiling as he toyed with your passions, beckoning you to race home to him. He knew you couldn’t until the day was officially done, and that was part of the fun. It only meant that when you were to finally open that front door, you would be more than ready to give yourself up to his tender love and care.

“Park Seonghwa, what do you think you are doing?” you hissed, pressing the phone right against the side of your face as your foot tapped an abstract rhythm on the carpeted floor.

“What do I think? I think I am talking to you right now, what about you?” he replied, purposefully feigning obliviousness.

“Hwa, the photo… the damn message....”

“Oh! That… yeah, it’s nothing special, really, I just did not send you any in quite some time, so thought I could spark… something,” he paused, indulging in your shallow breathing before finishing the sentence.

“Well you sparked something alright. Seonghwa. Or should I say, my demon of a husband?” you raised an eyebrow as you were met with a silence on the end of the line, but not long after, a sweet, resonant hum of agreement.

“Mm, what a title. Is that how I am making you feel, precious? Are you missing a certain something too?”

Missing. What exactly did both of you imply the other was missing? The word was laden with ambiguity and promise, imagination running wild from the emphasis that Seonghwa had placed on it, lifting it onto a pedestal, above rationality and stability. Inhale, exhale - you counted your breaths, knowing that in a minute you had to be heading back to talk numbers, strategies, even though only your husband would be on your mind.

“I-... yes, damn it,” you mumbled, lashes fluttering as a shiver ran up your spine.

“Mhm, I see… Now, don’t be shy, tell me, what is it that you are missing, what do you feel?” if there had been any hope of you remaining focused on work for the rest of the day, it was most certainly wiped now. You were mesmerised, clinging onto Seonghwa’s voice as though it was your only salvation in the midst of a storm. Quickly, you were losing all sense of your surroundings, too focused on his breaths, his sigh when he was obviously displeased with having to wait for your answer, and finally, his subtle command:

“Don’t be shy, tell me what’s on your mind,” you could not bring yourself to even part your lips, eyes darting to what you could see through the blinds into the meeting room. Your senior colleagues were still lethargic, unfocused, scrolling away or engaging in idle chatter. Maybe it could be advantageous, but judging by the heat that began to rise over your body you would definitely struggle stringing words together with eloquent cohesiveness. Seonghwa. The devious man. Your favourite drug. Your worst and best addiction.

“Perhaps you might need a little… inspiration… yes?”

“I…”

“...wouldn’t mind having you right on my tongue, writhing, falling apart…”

“Park Seonghwa-”

“I want to taste you. Want to keep you close for a long…” he paused, indulging in your electric silence, “long time, warm my cock while keeping you in a tight embrace, kissing you until we cannot breathe… how does that sound?”

“G-good…” you struggled to mumble out, wondering why your knees were transforming into jelly. The coolness of the wall against which you decided to lean provided some illusion of support.

“Your turn,” his tone turned more commanding and that did not go unnoticed. You bit your lower lip, not caring if that was going to smudge your lipstick. Nothing mattered, “I didn’t spare any details,” he waited. You remained frozen in your own thoughts, thousands of desires darting around your mind, but none being brave enough to escape and reveal itself to your husband. Perhaps for the better:

“Please don’t make me beg,” he must have heard you stifle a sound that was far too inappropriate to ever be heard in the workplace - the airy laugh that you were met with over the line was downright sinful, and made you curse your job. You needed him. Needed the release he was so readily offering.

“Or do you want me to pry your dirty little secrets out of you until you are the one begging?”

A shaky inhale, an equally shaky exhale. You uttered his name, in a low voice only he had ever heard. Simultaneously hostile and tantalising. He now knew that he had you hooked.

“Mm… fine. Please, my darling. Please, tell me all those precious filthy musings swimming around in that delightful brain of yours,” you clenched the phone tighter in your hand and crossed your legs. You knew you had no time, despite easily imagining the position that Seonghwa was in, where he was and how lost he was in a lascivious dreamland. Eyes glossed over, lips wetted with his own spit, tension building in his core which he refused to unwind. Without you, at least. With a sharp intake of cold air, you steadied yourself. You were not about to reward demands with treasures.

“Now, what would be the fun in that?”

“Come on… Y/N, I-”

“Be good, and you might just find out.” you cut him off, offering a fake smile to a colleague who walked past you. You needed to come back. Immediately.

“So you will be heading back on time today, right?” he was daring you, but at the same time it was easy to notice the notes of desperation. Untouched, riled up, overwhelmed. Needy. Just how you loved him.

“Hm… I do have a couple of things I could do…” who were you kidding? You had already gone through the fastest route home in your mind.

“Is that refusal I am hearing?” you heard him shift in his seat, the image of him leaning forwards to put an elbow on his knee so vivid that it was as if he was before you.

“Not at all, love, not… at all…” giving up due to your growing distraction, you let your husband have at least a little bit of hope. Clearly, the words worked wonders as with newfound vigour, Seonghwa bid you farewell.

“Then see you soon, Y/N darling.”

Soon could not come soon enough. You were glad no one could see your leg shaking under the table, and that you were well-practised in discreetly checking the time. Teasing, tugging you along to follow his game, striking you out of the blue and opening the door to the world that only you two shared. You would be lying if you said that you were thinking about anyone else while debating with an executive, or when you were brave enough to point out a blatant assumption that was used to support a projection earning yourself a few pointed questions. But nothing compared to the blaze that caressed your skin, spurred you on and made you feel alive. Your favourite deviant, seductive god, king of your heart and keeper of your soul, he gave you control just as much as he could take it away. Wiping away anxiety, he left anticipation. Erasing doubt, he left a blooming confidence.

And with that feeling and darkened gaze, you were racing against the clock, accompanied by the sound of your soles clicking against concrete, accelerating away from the skyscrapers that housed your professional victories and into winding tunnels. You mutely cursed at every delay and every pause in your commute, but nonetheless made it home in record time, astonished by the vista of the setting sun which you normally could not catch in the winter months.

---

The jingling of the keys alerted Seonghwa of your presence, and he set his phone screen down onto the kitchen table, turning to perch himself on the doorframe. He crossed his arms, a ghostly smile on his lips. Aside from going through the regular domestic chores he had planned for himself - a feat in his far from concentrated state, he had decided to be a little more forward with his demands, much to your shared excitement. This, of course, began with his appearance, or rather, a casual exposure of himself in a way you had always encouraged him to do, loving his body so genuinely that it translated into an unparalleled self-appreciation for him. At the same time, that meant that in moments just like this one, he could use your infatuation with his mind and his physique against you. All for a little bit of harmless fun.

He was right, as always. The moment you lifted your head and were about to announce your arrival, a breath hitched in your throat and words died on the tip of your tongue. Hair loose, bangs neatly falling to frame his face, and that damn jacket with a leopard print inner lining, casually thrown over his bare upper body, befitting him so well that you needed to give yourself some time before choking out a quick, feeble ‘I’m home’ and kicking off your heels. He grinned, outwardly innocent, pretending to ‘just be happy to see you, when in fact his imagination was already beginning to forgo every article of clothing you had on. Scanning your form, Seonghwa could not help but bite back a groan. Since the moment you had left this morning, he wanted you back because he wanted you. On the bed, on the table, on the counter, he did not care about the mess. In fact, if there was to be a mess, he would be all the more satisfied. His skin was burning worse than if he were to have a fever, and every moment that passed while you were going through the regular after work motions was pure torture.

As you finished washing your hands, and were about to tiptoe past him, likely to set your bag aside in your home office, he stopped you with one, quiet utterance.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day…”

Your heart was pumping an unsteady, deafening rhythm, and your hands were on the verge of shaking. Nothing was stopping you from simply giving in… except maybe an inkling of rebellion that clung onto you. He already had you in his hold, mouldable to whatever form he wished for, but if he was to play the long game, so were you.

“Mmm… don’t know about that. Missed the memo,” you huffed, wasting a little too much strength on forcing the phrases. Rushing past your husband, you headed to your office and pretended to be taken by both your bag and the miscellaneous stationery left on the desk.

You heard Seonghwa stalking behind you loud and clear, hyperfocused on his catlike steps, but remained rooted to your spot. Taking every item out of your bag, painfully slow, you were rapidly succumbing to the vision of your husband taking you apart. Gorgeous tanned skin, which you knew he was purposefully flaunting to you, intoxicating plush lips which were so vivid in your mind you could almost taste them, and his skillful hands… which just so happened to now be hovering over your waist. You clenched your jaw when they found purchase on your hips, and almost guided you to stand up and be pressed right against him.

Heat was rolling off your stunning lover in waves, and it was downright unbearable to have your back be connected to his toned chest. Seonghwa had no plans of letting you go. He pulled you closer, until you could practically trace his half-hard cock with your ass. He sighed at the contact, air softly passing over your skin, and let his lips trace a broken line upwards to your ear.

“That won’t do at all…” he flexed his arms as his hands roamed your body, “Fortunately, I know exactly how to show you,” you completely blanked, “what a good husband you have.”

As he was about to toy with the buttons at the top of your shirt, the one on your jacket having been long undone, you sprung into action and stopped him, barely suppressing a smirk as you turned your head and spotted a dash of confusion in his glossy eyes.

“I do have a wonderful husband, indeed. Too bad he does not know how to behave properly,” using the moment you slipped out of his embrace, and sauntered towards the door. Seonghwa was left in shock, starved and needy, having been thinking about you, you and only you all day. But his composition returned just as rapidly as it had faltered. You slowed down before reaching the door, as if being pulled back.

Seonghwa was, indeed, magnetic. Lithe, agile, he reminded you of a panther, slinking across the couple of metres that separated you. You were aching to rip off the beige two piece right where he stood, and involuntarily darted your tongue between your lips, much to your husband’s amusement. He was not quite as gentle this time, grabbing a hold of you until you were chest to chest and securing your position by pressing on your lower back. His breath tickled your face; your hands snaked under his jacket, running over exposed skin, worshipping every part you could both see and visualise.

“Really, Hwa. So eager,” you mumbled, brushing your lips over his, testing the waters and seeing a lustful, desperate storm clouding his dilated pupils.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered against your cheek, leaving a tentative peck. You dared to glance at him, poking his nose with your own.

“You’re acting out… disrupting me at work… sending such dirty things to me… calling me to tell me how you want me… is this to be rewarded, my love?” a shudder rolled over Seonghwa’s body, resulting in him planting more feverish kisses over your face, moving towards your jawline and finally across to your ear, nipping it.

“How could I ever behave when I need you, and you are looking like this…” his fingers caressed the collar of your shirt, scalding hot, “and are wearing my favourite perfume…” he inhaled, as though he was drunk off your scent - it was nothing more than what had come to be your signature, a bouquet of notes that defined you, but soon enough turned to being another way in which you occupied Seonghwa’s senses.

Both of you subconsciously moved towards the door, getting impatient. Fingertips mapped the hickeys with violently cautious touches, and Seonghwa swore that if he did not act now, he would go mad. It was ridiculous. You were his life partner, a person to whom he had committed with his entire being, and yet with every passing day his desire for you kept on growing and he was falling deeper and deeper in both love and lust. With you in his arms he was a man lost at sea, blanking out, spiralling and devoted to passion. A big difference between your time dating and your married life, however, was that he did not have to hold back on his own wishes anymore, being as explicit as he was comfortable with, knowing that you would do the same, and no matter what, pleasure would be mutual and adoring. And, he needed it. Seonghwa needed you now. His hand moved on its own accord to cup your face and guide it towards his own. Millimetres apart, he set you ablaze along with him.

“...please…” spilled out, a feeble plea. Seonghwa’s eyes were darting all around you, trying to get some kind of answer, permission, anything. You nodded. And the thread holding you two back snapped.

The kiss was messy, animalistic, far from the calm lover with whom you shared your daily life. Seonghwa did not give you a chance to breathe, instead pushing his lips against yours with the ferocity of a starved man. Unparalleled sweetness graced you as his tongue slipped inside, and he eagerly revisited the movements he found most entrancing, his occasional rough and low growls sending you into a frenzy. Your muted whine spurred him on, and he pushed your entangled forms out of the office, and into the bedroom, the door to which had been left open.

One nip, another, it was as if he wanted to mark you as his everywhere, teeth leaving a pleasant blend of satisfaction and a dull pain to spread from your lips and shoot straight to your core. You began to push off his jacket, a request which he readily accepted, leaving him constrained only by his bottoms. Seonghwa would not give you any false advantages, speedily tugging your jacket off you. His erection was pressing into your thigh, and you could not resist grinding against him, eliciting a delicious groan.

Soon enough, your shirt and bra hastily joined your jacket on the floor, while Seonghwa spared no time in kneading one of your breasts, while feeling the air with the other in an attempt to reach the switch on the floor lamp, growling into the kiss when he missed the first couple of times and hand to open his eyes. You broke away from your husband, resting your palms on his abdomen and admiring just how pretty he looked in the warm, dimmed light that washed over the room in a flash. So it was that kind of night.

“...Want to see you…” he mumbled as he pressed his forehead against yours and locked your lips together once more, guiding you backwards towards the bed. When your legs hit its edge, he hooked his strong arm around you, a quick “careful,” escaping him.

“Let’s get this off, shall we?” gliding a finger on the inner side of the trouser waistband, he waited for you to comply. It did not take much time for you to get rid of the remaining clothes, and be left only with the full awareness of just how wet you really were.

You pressed your legs together, only for Seonghwa to inch his knee and push it in between, forcing them back apart. It was times like this when you realised that he really could read you better than you could read yourself, and any gesture, thought or fantasy, was his as much as your own.

“You’re so beautiful, no need to hide from me,” he scanned over your body, and you felt like you were on fire, melting into him. While your husband’s eyes were glazed over with lust, within them they still held so much love that your heart could burst. “Ah, wait a minute,” you watched as he removed his bottoms, and with a hiss, let his hard and leaking cock spring free. His low chuckle was music to your ears, “now we’re good.”

“Mhm… oh Hwa… I really did make you wait…” you lowered your gaze to his cock, finger tracing a line down his stomach and stopping right before its base. He sucked in a shallow breath, nuzzling his face against yours to hide how close he was to being pushed completely over the edge. Patience was a virtue, and he barely had any left. “Let me take care of you, hm?” you suggested, trying to move to the side to gesture for Seonghwa to sit down on the bed. He remained still, and whispered against your cheek:

“No… I wanted to do that- ah-” your leg brushed against Seonghwa’s sensitive cockhead, pulling a gasp out of him.

“Then I have an idea, if you’re with me on this. Lie down for me?” pulling away, you switched where you were standing, and tilted your chin to gesture at the bed that was now in front of you. Seonghwa peered around his shoulder, and back at you, a soft, tiny smile, albeit a meek one, dancing on his lips.

“Baby you’re doing too-”

“Shush, we can make each other feel good,” promptly following Seonghwa, you were now hovering above him, playing with his necklace.

“I love you,” he said breathlessly, making the side of your mouth curl into a half smile.

“I love you too.”

“Now I’m craving something sweet,” you lightly slapped his chest and shook your head in an attempt to hide your amusement.

“Oh stop it…”

“I think I’ll go crazy if I don't have you sitting on my face in the next few seconds.”

“Can’t have that happening.”

You adjusted positions, and once you had your back facing Seonghwa, he pulled your hips towards him to lower your pussy over his face. Carefully, you leaned forward, relishing in the sight of your husband’s impossibly stunning body, every muscle a work of art. After finding a comfortable balance, and waiting for the initial shock of Seonghwa tasting you to turn into a continuous thrum of pleasure, you spat into your palm, and wrapped the hand around his cock. His thighs tensed in response and his grasp became tighter as he rolled his tongue over your clit.

Mirroring him, you teased his cockhead, and only then proceeded to take his length into your mouth, relaxing your jaw and moving slowly to ensure that he would not reflexively buck into you. You flattened your tongue, dragging it along the shaft and spreading spit and precum. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat. With hollowed cheeks you began to bob your head at a leisurely pace and not caring for the mess you were making at the base of his cock, clear liquid running down past the corners of your swollen lips.

Seonghwa produced a muffled noise, unable to stay completely focused while you were driving him towards his high, but not breaking contact. He sucked on your clit, making you whine while deepthroating him. Your eyes were starting to water as you wanted more, always more, and you reached to fondle his balls, pausing to get some air. Strings of saliva and precum momentarily connected you still, and the lewdness of the scene was downright pornographic. You were relentless, addicted to this man whom you had the exclusive ability to call your husband. You were the one who knew how to take him apart and put him back together.

The wanton sounds of Seonghwa devouring your pussy stimulated you further, and the coil which had been growing tighter with every pass of his skillful tongue was ready to snap and release. A hint of a trembling sensation passed through your legs, and you sped up your own motions, your hand jerking off the base while you swirled over his tip in preparation to take him fully again.

Seonghwa dipping his tongue between, in and out, and through your wet folds had you seeing stars, and you grinded against him. He gripped you tighter so that you would not be able to instinctively squirm and lift yourself upwards, and circled around your aroused clit, sucking it in between his lips and returning to fucking you with his tongue. His vision was clouded, he was in a daze, unable to process anything anymore, except the static fuzziness in his brain and how delicious you were.

He used up what little attention he had left on your clit, and repeated ministrations had you tipping over the edge and shuddering in his hold. Seonghwa remained buried between your legs as your climax hit you, and held you to prevent your hips from leaving him, and continued to lap at your sopping heat, catching your release. You moaned against his cock, freezing in place and letting your husband chase his high by bucking his hips upwards and using you. In no time, he was painting your mouth and your throat with thick strings of white, falling back onto the bed while you followed to try and swallow as much of his release as you could. Cum and spit was dribbling down your chin and his shaft when you were finished, and once you, with Seonghwa’s help, were laying on your side and face to face with him the unmistakable glistening fluid on his face made you love him all the more. One kiss, another, you tasted yourselves on each other’s lips, choosing to make your lungs scream rather than let go.

He was so beautiful. His loving, electric gaze - a permanent feature of his expression when it came to you. Everything about him was a reason to adore him. You brushed away a strand of hair, one which had stubbornly stuck to his forehead, only for Seonghwa to take your hand in his and plant a soft kiss on its back. You giggled, enjoying the contrast of this intimate, but lighthearted moment as opposed to the passionate exchange earlier. This was how he was, and you would not want him any different.

You took your time regarding him, and he did the same to you. Blissful, overflowing with a want for more. His lips were on yours again, and you deepened the kiss by bunching his long inky hair in your hand. Every reaction, every gasp was your favourite music. Seonghwa rolled over and positioned himself between your legs, arms on either side. Hair perfectly framed his elegant features, and the shadows cast shapes akin to a painting you would see at a gallery. He was a masterpiece.

“Lift your hips for me,” you followed his request, wriggling into position while he lifted himself up to take your legs and bend them towards your torso, “thank you, my love… such a pretty pussy, all mine,” the dirty talk came naturally to him, and it was not your first time hearing it, but nonetheless had you biting the inside of your cheek.

Still sensitive, you whispered his name when he glided his hardened cock between your wet folds. Coated in slick and cream, Seonghwa met no resistance and bottomed out in one stroke. Your loud moan prompted words of praise and adoration, and he was certain that nothing could ever be better than this.

“Ah- just perfect-” you watched his face contort , eyes threatening to roll back as he started to thrust into you.

You could barely form words, sinking into the pillows and peeking at Seonghwa through half-lidded eyes - the most you could muster. All your senses were filled with him, and you swore you were going to fall apart at any moment. Grateful for his arms supporting your legs, you physically couldn’t resist the drowning pleasure, instead trying your best to keep up with his cock drilling into you, failing whenever it brushed over your sweet spot.

“H-hwa-”

“Mm?”

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, making him push your legs further apart and crawl a little ways over you until his orbs, near black in the dimly lit room, were boring into you.

You intertwined, overlapped, transposed into something greater than yourselves. Sharing the same air, you panted in time with your lover and captured his lips with yours over, and over again. His body was so close to yours, that you could feel his necklace brushing over your chest, occasionally touching your neck. Seonghwa filled you to the hilt, the slight stretch turning your moans into barely audible mewls.

“Please- h-harder- I l-love your cock so mu-uch-”

Seonghwa cursed under his breath, drunk from your choice of words, and with one final kiss curled over you and quickened the rocking of his hips to a brutal euphoria. You were on the verge of melting, bodies turning agonisingly hot with each passing second. Your hands searched for his wrists, weakly wrapping around them for some form of support. Carnal; you were infinitely turned on by how instinctive his reactions were. You could not care for anything in the world, words turning to a garbled mess and moans loudly echoing in your husband’s ears.

“F-fuck, you feel so good I’m-” he was fisting the bedsheets, ruthlessly pounding into you, the slapping of skin against skin and your sounds making him fall apart.

His pace faltered as he came, legs shuddering, voice breaking as he unleashed an airy and high-pitched moan, but he still continued to thrust while he filled you with his warm load. He pushed his release deeper inside you, breathing heavily and pressing you more and more into the bedsheets. The squelching was downright filthy, but you wanted to capture every drop and threw your arms around Seonghwa as much as you could given your position, simply so he could be flush against you. He hissed through gritted teeth as your walls began to clench around his aching length, prompting aftershocks from his orgasm.

“Hwa-a, I’m coming, I- don’t stop please-”

“Come for me, love,” his gentleness, even in such a feverish moment, was your undoing. The thread you had been clinging onto snapped.

Your head fell back against the pillows, and if it wasn’t for Seonghwa’s form securing you from above, you knew you would be arching off the bed, uncontrollable. You called out his name like a mantra, and in your ecstatic haze could sense him slowing down, helping both of you ride out your intense climaxes. Vision spinning, you did not dare move, instead transforming into a pliable doll for Seonghwa to rearrange. Shakily, he let go of the bed sheets and sat upright, tapping your legs to relax. Lazily, you stretched out, heart still racing, and barely registered the dip of the mattress next to you.

When you turned, your husband was there, head resting on his hand, propped up by his elbow. He was studying you with a small smile, and when he noticed you were more present, leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Hello,” it was almost unbelievable, just how honey sweet he could be in a matter of seconds, making you more shy than during sex. This made you all too aware and critical of your current state, and you turned your head to search for something to cover yourself with, until you heard a sigh escape your husband, “It’s like I’m dreaming. You’re so enchanting.”

He fell fully by your side, draping an arm over your upper body and gingerly massaging your hip. It was rare for him to not rush to clean both of you off, but you were not complaining about this kind of moment of closeness. It felt raw. It felt real. You got to fall in love for the nth time. Seonghwa’s face was rosy, blushed, and he was just barely steadying himself, but even then, was not letting go of you, choosing to retain all physical proximity in favour of going about routines. HIs cum is smeared over your folds, was dripping onto the covers and had smeared across your inner thighs, you had remnants of spit and release on your face, and yet he was still looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. His one and only.

“Not too sore? Shall I run a bath?” He poked your nose with his own, grinning when you ran a hand over the side of his face.

“Mm… I’m fine. But a bath would be nice. Can we…”

“Want me to join?”

“Mhm. Want you to give me a head massage.”

“Ah, of course, at your service-”

“Come on…” you chuckled at his joke and trailed off, pausing to stare deep into his eyes, musing everything and nothing all at once.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking how you should send me pictures more often,” a hint of darkness flashed in his eyes; mischief, future schemes formulating themselves. You traced past love bites, ran a finger over his plump lips which were equally as red and swollen as yours, you bet.

“Mm, you changed your mind I see. None of that ‘I am at work’ anymore, then?”

“Maybe you should be the one who is worried now,” you shot back with a smirk.

Seonghwa sat up, swinging his legs over to the edge of the bed, but turning back to give you one last adoring look before launching into a routine long-familiar to you. In no time, you would be taking careful sips of water while waiting for the bath to fill, and your husband would be telling you to stay put, having returned from the clouds and back to finding it unbearable to have clothes on the floor and creasing. Your heart swelled. He was everything at once, flipping switches, changing from one second to the next while still being his gorgeous self. Before, it had made you confused, flustered. Now, you just loved him. There was no other way to put it. You got to see every curve and edge, and always discovered something new.

“I’ll be impatiently waiting.”

❤️‍🔥 taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @starrysvn @shakalakaboomboo @uwuheeseungie @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? please consider reblogging. thank you

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fairyhaos · 7 months

Text

How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos

[masterlist]

this post details:

DIALOGUING INTERESTINGLY

hi gays and gals! the first post on starting and pacing a story did really well, so "how to fucking write" is back, with yet more advice and tips for everyone ^^ please feel free to let me know if there's something you want me talk about, because i'll be more than willing to see if i can help. also a reminder that i have a taglist for this series as well, and please reblog if you find this helpful :)

# - HOW TO DIALOGUE.

.. bullet point one : grammar

okay guys, as a native english speaker, i'll be the first to tell you that this language fucking sucks in terms of its grammar, but when it comes to dialogue, understanding how it works even to some extent will help you branch out and vary the way you write dialogue, which makes it so much more interesting.

with dialogue tags (said, asked, etc) if the punctuation mark in the dialogue is not a ! or ? then it should be a comma.

example : [junhui + castle]

as you can see in the first line, a comma is used rather than a full stop, because the sentence hasn't been finished yet. there's a dialogue tag, ('you correct'), that comes after it. and since the pronoun 'you' isn't a proper noun (i.e. a name) then it shouldn't be capitalised, because, again, the sentence hasn't been finished.

with action tags however, (he smiled, he stood up, etc) then it should be a full stop.

example : [i just made one up bc i don't use this a lot lmao]

"I disagree." He stood up, and walked over to close the door. "This isn't safe. You shouldn't go alone."

and now, since there is a full stop, it indicates that the speech is a sentence all by itself. that means the next word ('He') ought to be capitalised.

but the key part when grammar-ing dialogue in order to make it interesting depends on where you put the action and grammar tags.

if you constantly have lines that are just:

"dialogue," he said.

"dialogue," she said.

"dialogue but a bit longer," he said.

... then it can get repetitive, and annoying. by varying your dialogue structure, it can create more interesting dialogue.

example : [minghao + password]

there's a variety of dialogue and action tags being used with each line of dialogue, preventing everything from sounding too repetitive.

the first line starts with a normal sentence, and an action tag. the second is a standalone line of dialogue with no tags. the second has the action tag in the middle of the dialogue. and the last has a dialogue tag in the middle of the dialogue.

by varying the ways in which you write your dialogue, it makes everything a lot more interesting.

.. bullet point two : verbs and adverbs

the easiest way to make dialogue interesting, though, is to use fancy words.

this can be by replacing 'said' with a range of other dialogue tags (see this really comprehensive list for a whole variety of different words), but i'd advise against overusing these. 'said' is your friend! it's the invisible dialogue tag, helps your reader read through your dialogue in comfort, but of course, if you wanna add a nuanced way of describing the dialogue, then replacing 'said' is the easiest way to make your dialogue interesting.

but don't overuse these. for me, i'd focus on action tags and adverbs.

use interesting adverbs that add description to how a character is saying something can go miles. and using action tags that break through what could have been a long section of characters just talking? it helps so much.

i'd recommend having onelook thesaurus open as you write. you don't have to type in just words: phrases, the overall vibes of the word you're thinking of, all of that can be typed into the thesaurus and they'll provide you with pretty good results each time.

it also really helps when you've forgotten a word and can only remember vague bits of what the word should feel like.

.. bullet point three : voices

the best way, however, is ultimately to create a character. write a personality for them, bring them to life, think about the way in which they would talk and then put that down onto paper.

it's difficult, perhaps the most difficult to do, because it's also so tricky to advise someone on how to do this. it's all about the character you want to create, the personality you envision for them, and the only person who can fully write that is you.

however, i would find a few 'ticks' of theirs and use them as indicators in your writing.

for example, in my seoksoo long fic, seokmin's tick is that he always "chirps" what he's saying. and beams. a lot. this identifies his character, makes him unique(ish), and establishes his personality and differs him to the other characters.

but ultimately, it comes down to word choices, when you're writing a character voice.

like, your character describing something with elegant, floral language vs them going "this is so pretty". or perhaps making them stumble over their words when they're panicked vs them simply just going silent when they're flustered.

it's about being specific. about making choices with your words that would have english teachers analyse and unpick your writing, hundreds of years later.

(even if it's fanfic. especially if it's fanfic: because who knows how many fans may join your fandom in the next few years?)

... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)

tagging (comment/send ask to be added!): @selenicives @stqrrgirle @weird-bookworm @eternalgyu @blue-jisungs (tough luck guys btw but youre gonna be tagged in this entire series ehehehe)

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borahaerhy · 1 year

Note

One shot where Jungkook and reader are staying at one of their parents house and it’s night time already but Jungkook wants you but you’re shy and you guys have to be quiet so they are doing it slow and deep but reader is hugging Jungkooks neck and he’s moaning on her ear and kissing her neck while also talking quietly to her if she likes it . daddy kink! He’s huge! If requests are still open plz

omg-

Good Girl - jjk

Genre: Fluffy Smut, established relationship

Warnings: Smut, Y/n's nervous, Emotional sex, unprotected sex (nope), Dom/sub themes, Daddy kink, praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, these two are really in love and it's kinda sickening,

Word count: 1.9K

The past week has been absolutely perfect.

You were so anxious to meet Jungkook’s parents, having been with their son for almost five whole years without more than a few conversations over the phone with them, but you were happily surprised when you landed in Korea and were met with the sweetest people you’d ever met - aside from their son, of course.

You met your boyfriend, Jungkook, at the company you worked. You were a training producer, and he was one of the new paid interns, getting coffee and sending emails. He didn’t know very much english whenever the two of you met, but that definitely didn’t stop him from flirting with you every time he asked you for your coffee order.

He had just moved from Korea after accepting a job at one of his dream record labels, the label you just so happened to work at.

That was nearly five years ago, and Jungkook had been wanting to make a trip back to visit his family for a while now; and you’d obviously have to be a part of that. You’d always been the shy type, never one to really initiate conversation or do anything out of the norm, something Jungkook found endearing when you’d first begun talking.

So, the thought of going to a different country to meet his family while you barely knew the language seemed extremely daunting. But then you got there, and everyone was just so nice to you, and you genuinely couldn’t be more thankful.

“How do you feel about going home tomorrow, Gguk?” You wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s waist from behind him, back hugging him when you noticed him looking out the window without saying anything after his shower for a bit too long. He held your arms as they held him, his fingers tracing delicately along your skin as he leaned into your touch.

“I wish we could stay longer, I’ve had such a great time,” you nodded as you delicately pressed a kiss to his shoulder. He sighed as he turned around, you loosening your arms only long enough for him to face you, then you tightened them around him once again as he brought his hands to cup your cheeks, rubbing his thumb gently just how he knows you like it. You melt into him slightly, his touch always having that effect on you. “But we have to get back to work, and you probably miss home.”

You smiled softly, yet solemnly as you knew how much he’s been looking forward to this trip, and how much he’ll miss his family once you have to leave again.

“Yeah, but I’m glad I got to see your home; you make a lot more sense now that I’ve met your mom.”

“I make more sense?” Your smile only gets wider as you look down slightly.

“Yeah, you know, you’re just so sweet and sensitive, even though you definitely don’t look like it,” You pause, referencing the large sleeve of tattoos and several piercings gracing his delicate yet strong features. “And after meeting your mom I realize it’s because you’re exactly like her.”

He scoffs, squishing your cheek slightly. “I am not exactly like Eomma, I’m way less of a perfectionist and I definitely don’t nag as much,”

Says the man that spent 3 hours decorating your bedroom for valentines day, because he had to make sure every rose petal was at the exact right spot. And he might not nag, but he will rewash every dish after you’ve already done them because you don't do them in the exact way he does; though he loves and appreciates your effort.

You giggle as you raise your arms, taking a few steps backwards before you turn around and jump on the bed, adjusting yourself so that you’re resting against the pillows, your leg crossed over the other as you still tried to remain modest while wearing nothing but underwear and an oversized t-shirt. You grabbed the book you’d been reading from off the bedside table, opening it up to where you left off.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” You look back up, Jungkook still standing at the foot of the bed looking at you with complete adoration. You couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up your cheeks, nor the smile that spread across your reddening face. “In a like, really sexy kind of way,” Jungkook took a few slow, long strides to the side of the bed you were seated on, lifting the book gently from your hands and putting it back on the table you’d just picked it up from.

“I was reading that,” You lightly protested, not fully looking him in the eye as he crawled onto the bed, his arms caging you in as he climbs between your legs.

“Mmm, my apologies,” His lips were on your neck before there was even time to remember that you were still in his parents house, in his old bedroom right next to theirs.

“Jungkook,” You lightly pressed on his chest, his face quickly moving up so that his eyes could meet yours, immediately searching your face for any signs that you were uncomfortable. “Your parents are going to hear us,” you were basically whispering now, as Jungkook’s light smile soon returned.

“I know you know how to be quiet, love,” You bit your lip, moving your eyes from Jungkook to look at the door. He moved to hold your face softly, bringing your attention back to him, a more serious expression on his face than before. “If you don’t want to-”

“No, I want to,” you reassured him, the heat between your legs as he hovered over you was deniable to no one; you just didn’t want his parents to feel disrespected in their own home.

“Then let me take care of you, baby,” His smile returned as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. He Let himself relax down onto you as your wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him further into you. His hands quickly made their way up your shirt, his fingers ghosting up to your waist until they stopped there, gripping onto you softly as he deepened the kiss.

He always knew exactly how you liked to be touched; something he credited to not being fluent in english when the two of you met. He had to rely heavily on your body language to understand how you felt. So when you started dating and he was able to touch you, he always made sure to notice every little movement you made, knowing that even though you spoke more of the same language, you still weren’t one to be very vocal about your own wants and needs, and even when things made you uncomfortable.

So when he left soft grazing kisses right below your ear that turned warmer and wetter the further down he got, he knew you’d let out a small hum in response, running your fingers through his hair before pulling it gently. He hummed into your neck lightly as he slowly began to lift your shirt up higher and higher, your nipples hardening at the cool air coming in contact with you as he pulled the shirt over your head.

As he threw your shirt to the side, he couldn’t help but stay sitting up for a little longer, looking down on your gorgeous figure. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to just how beautiful you are,” You immediately move to cover your face, knowing you’d be the same shade of red as a tomato in mere seconds, but Jungkook never let you get that far, moving your hands to wrap around him as he wrapped his around you, your bare chests pressed tightly against each others.

One of his hands moved down, caressing your thigh softly before he moved between your legs, sliding his fingers under the hem of your underwear, the pad of his middle finger delicately pressing to your wet clit as he let out a low groan.

“You’re so wet for me, baby. You really want daddy that bad, huh?” He whispered in your ear as he slid one finger into you, your fingers gripping onto his shoulders tightly as you desperately tried not to moan out.

“Yes, daddy, want you so bad” as soon as the light whimper left your lips, your underwear was off; Jungkook’s head buried in your shoulder as he fought his sweatpants and boxers down.

“Fuck, princess, you have no idea what you do to me,” He pressed into you, his length stretching you out as he moved his hips slowly into yours. You stifled down a moan, covering your mouth with your fist as Jungkook had to muffle his own into your neck.

Your arms were hooked around his neck and shoulders, wrapped tightly around him as if your life depended on it as his slow deliberate movements drove you insane. His elbow rested on the outside of your shoulder, his hand tangled in your hair as he left hot wet kisses on your neck. His other hand had a firm grip on your outer thigh, holding it up at the perfect angle for his slow thrusts to reach new depths, deliciously rutting against your cervix.

He moaned softly in your ear as he pulled out, gripping onto you harder as he thrust back in hard, moving your body up and no doubt shaking the bed under you. You moaned out from the unexpected friction, his hand moving to cover your mouth as he moved to look you in the eye.

“Gotta be quiet, baby. You’ve been so good for me, I need to you stay quiet for me, can you do that, love?” You nodded softly, eyebrows knitted and lip between your teeth as you dug your fingernails into his back, trying to keep yourself steady as his thrusts got harder. He slid his hand off your mouth, his lips attaching to your jaw, his tongue sliding against your skin between kisses and nips.

“Good girl,” He whispers as he gets to your ear, sucking your earlobe into his mouth as he softly moans. The hand that was previously holding your thigh up moved between your bodies, his thumb pressing to your clit. You arched your back, moving further into him as he moved further into you, your pussy swallowing him up just the way he liked as he drew patterns into your clit.

“Mm, daddy-” you tried your best to whisper, but your voice was admittedly louder than you’d hoped as he fucked into harder, your orgasm building up quickly.

“Shhh, baby, I know. Just cum around daddy’s cock,” you dragged your fingernails down his back, moans light, only for him to hear as he brought you to your climax. “So good, baby. So good for daddy, fuck,”

Both of his hands moved to your hips, leveraging himself into your throbbing pussy as he rested his forehead on yours, looking deeply into your eyes as he cums inside you, both of you clinging to the other as you rode out your highs.

As he relaxes down into you, coming down from his orgasm, his lips meet yours in a lazy kiss, your hands coming to meet the others faces with soft touches as he lovingly peppers your face with kisses.

He eventually rolls onto his back, pulling you with him to lay on his chest, gently caressing your bare skin as you drifted to sleep.

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avianyuh · 6 months

Text

Dating Yuta

Nakamoto Yuta

fuck

even his name is hot

first of all, he gives me protective boyfriend vibes

he'd be all over you in public and by public I mean in front of the members at the dorms or something

but I feel like if he was away he would make sure to FACETIME you, not text

you tried texting him once when he was away on tour and he hated not being able to see your face

he also says how he's with the most beautiful person ever and he needs to see you

blah blah blah

you know, he's sappy like that

he's a Scorpio and scorpio's are known to be very intense in relationships

but they're also known to be very committed and that's exactly what Yuta would be in a relationship

he'd be committed to you 100%

I also think he'd be very honest with you

would love to just sit in bed with you and talk for hours

if you weren't from there or familiar with the country, he'd tell and teach you all about Japan

talk about his childhood

I think he'd also teach you how to play soccer

even if you weren't sporty, he'd take you to the gym with him lmao

but you'd go anyway because sometime's he works out shirtless

and holy fuck is he hot

{have y'all seen his tattoo????? AGGGGHHHH}

anyways

you know what, we're getting explicit

remember how I for no reason at all brought astrology into this...

well, remember how I said scorpio's are intense

well that also applies to what he's like in bed

I see him as being very loving during sex

probably has a body worship kink

would just love to praise you

like to the point where you're blushing and hiding your face cuz he's just throwing out all of these embarrassing compliments

just wants you to know how much he loves you

probably holds your hands while having sex

and you know that stare he has

yep, looking right at you

after sex you probably trace his tattoos

UUUUGGGGHHH

he's too much

but you love him

anyways back to the regular stuff

he'd want to try teaching you Japanese

and whenever you argue, if he gets really mad he starts speaking Japanese and that's how you know he's really heated

but it's kinda hot

and you love seeing him speaking in his native language

I also see him constantly trying to plan secret dates

like I said, he's very protective of you

and though he has a IDGAF attitude and would like to go public

he knows that there'd be backlash and doesn't want you getting hurt

so he takes extra time to plan fun but still 'safe' dates for the two of you

especially if he hasn't been able to see you for awhile

btw, if he goes too long without seeing you he gets cranky and the members notice

so yeah, ladies and gentlemen; Nakamoto Yuta

a fucking work of art and you can't change my mind

#nct #nct 127 #yuta #nakamoto yuta #nct headcanons #nct u #nct fluff #nct smut #nct reactions #nct as boyfriends #kpop #yuta as a boyfriend #headcanons #kpop writing #kpop masterlist #nct imagines #nct 2023 #nctzen

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modanisgf · 21 days

Text

APPLE CIDER , HUH YUNJIN

☆ SUMMARY— you met yunjin at a beabadobee concert and never went back, being attached at the hip. though as you start to develop feelings for her, you realize she’s been hiding something from you. something that you couldn’t live with.

☆ PAIRING(S)— non!idol huh yunjin x fem!reader

☆ WARNING(S)— some angst, profanity

☆ GENRES— right person wrong time, wlw, miscommunication, forbidden love, yunjin is a bit toxic i am now realizing! (erm..)

☆ A/N— for my number one pookie @jayjj7 🙏 thank u for being my friend 🫶🫶🫶 you are so funny and thank u for making me laugh sm also i promise it gets good at the end guys.. i also actually dk a lot about cupid so pls dont comment on how accurate that part is

☆ WC— 1.5k

MASTERLIST

if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you’ve loved huh yunjin since the day you met her. the way she helped you when you were at your lowest, being the only person to even look at you.

yunjin was perfect in all ways but one, and you’re starting to catch on. she had been rather distant lately, giving you short replies and even going as far to leave you on read.

you weren’t sure what sparked this, it happened randomly one day and ever since you’ve felt different. the days seemed longer and more boring without yunjin to light them up, but you still made it through just barely.

one night though, you woke up to a loud ringing. cursing at yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, you picked up your phone and answered not checking the contact before.

“hello?” you say, yawning.

“y/n?” yunjin says her voice woke you right up, the shock making you sit up.

“yunjin?” you say, confused.

“why are you calling me this late?”

“i need to tell you something, can you meet me at our spot soon? it can’t wait i’m sorry.”

“i’ll be there.” is all you say before hanging up, quickly making an effort to get ready.

you weren’t sure why you agreed, considering yunjin hadn’t even taken the time out of her day to speak to you until now. but you’re soon reminded of your love for the girl, the thought making you sigh.

finally, you finish getting ready, leaving your house and making your way down your street heading for the lake you and yunjin would always visit.

the two of you could spent hours there just talking, the memories flooding in as you thought about the place.

pushing them back, you stopped at the front of the lake once you saw yunjin. you could recognize her face from a mile away, her bright red hair always making you laugh remembering the night she dyed it.

“y/n does it look bad?” she asks, looking horrified at you over the phone.

“no yunjin it looks good.” you say, barely containing your laughter.

“why are you laughing then?!”

“you’re so cute.”

yeah, you hated how good your memory was.

yunjin must’ve heard your footsteps, the girl turning around to meet your eyes waving to you timidly.

you walked over to her, taking a seat next to her. the tension was evident between you two, considering this was the first time you were around each other in weeks.

"where have you been?” you ask quietly.

“dealing with some things but—“ she replies.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you say, the anger you felt previously coming back.

“there’s more to it y/n.” yunjin sighs.

“yunjin i’ve told you everything, i’m sure that i won’t be mad if you just communicate with me.” you say, your hand reaching out for hers as she interlocks them.

“are you sure?” yunjin says quietly, making you more nervous.

“i’m sure.”

“y/n i love you, i’ve loved you since forever now and i want to be yours.” yunjin says, holding your hand tightly now.

your eyes light up, “why didn’t you just tell me? i’m in love with you too, i thought it was obvious.”

“that’s not exactly the issue though i just—“ yunjin pauses, thinking about her word choice carefully.

“we can’t be together.” she says finally, making you drop her hand.

“huh?”

“we can’t be together y/n, and it’s not right for me to keep this from you anymore.”

“what the hell are you talking about?”

yunjin flinched at your tone, moving away from you a bit in order to give you space. she bit her tongue, thinking of ways to explain this situation.

the truth is yunjin was here to help y/n find love, not have her fall in love with her and yunjin reciprocate the feeling. yunjin was never truly meant to become this close to y/n, and for weeks now her ‘boss’ had been sending her angry messages.

she had been gone too long from her post, other people needing her help were waiting for cupid to come into their lives and assist them. but the tale was slowly disappearing, as yunjin was gone.

yunjin was set to go home the next morning, so she had to explain this quickly. she didn’t know why she didn’t just spend her last days with y/n, and she knew how much regret she would be feeling as she left. she chose to ignore that for now, refocusing on you.

the silence was very long on your end, but it broke as you saw yunjin look at you again. her eyes boring into yours, yunjin not noticing how furious you looked.

“we were never meant to fall in love, i was supposed to help you find love.” yunjin says, leaving you confused.

“what do you mean? yunjin you sound so stupid right now—“ you say, thinking she was messing with you.

“i’m serious y/n,” she deadpans, “we aren’t allowed to date.” she says firmly.

“who isn’t allowing you?” you ask.

yunjin didn’t think this through at first, realizing the concept of cupid was just a myth in your eyes only making it harder for you to take her seriously.

“my dad,” yunjin lies not wanting to drag this out, “he isn’t fond of me being in a relationship right now.”

you look at her with sympathy, apologizing soon after.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have been so rude—“ you rant on, yunjin cutting you off.

“it’s fine y/n, but there’s another thing. i leave tomorrow morning.” yunjin says.

“to where?” you ask, wondering so many different things.

why the hell was yunjin dropping all of this on you now? you could’ve spent her last week together, but instead she decided to ghost you. in short, you were frustrated with her immensely. you didn’t like how she had you wrapped around her finger, and you should’ve never accepted her invite to the lake.

“i’m just moving, my parents wanna move up north.” yunjin says, looking down.

it was obvious she was lying, but you chose to ignore it. at least she was saying something to you now, instead of leaving you on read for days on end not even bothering to respond ever.

“mhm.” was all you could say, not really sure what else to.

“yunjin, are you gonna tell me why you’re really leaving?” you ask, noticing how fast she tenses up.

she definitely thought she had you, the thought making you roll your eyes.

“i can’t, you wouldn’t understand-“

“just tell me, it doesn’t matter if i do or not i want to know the truth.” you say firmly.

yunjin sighs taking a long pause, “y/n, we can’t date because i’m not supposed to be yours.”

“we weren’t even supposed to meet, but i felt differently about you when i first saw you.” yunjin says.

“when i was crying at concert..?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a bit. you smile when you see yunjin laugh a bit.

“yeah..” yunjin says, reminiscing.

“i’ll never forget that night.”

“i promise you if it was up to me i would take every chance i could to be yours, i’d love you until the end of time.” yunjin starts, “but unfortunately it couldn’t be that way, and i have to leave soon to help others.”

“i’m cupid.” she finishes.

“cupid?”

“yes, i was meant to pair you up with someone at that concert.” yunjin says, quietly.

“yunjin, and you never thought to tell me this at least a week before you have to go back?” you ask.

yunjin takes a deep breath before replying, the tension in her muscles leaving her feeling uneasy.

“i just didn’t think you would love me back, i thought i could just leave and forget about my feelings but i didn’t realize until recently that you felt the same.” yunjin says.

“yunjin, you make it so hard to not love you.” you say, holding her face in your hands now.

“i’m so sorry y/n. i’m so sorry that we never get to be with each other.” yunjin says, looking straight into your eyes.

“it’s not your fault jin, i forgive you.”

“can i hold you before you go?”

“please.”

the two of you spent a while at that lake in silence, as you fell asleep with yunjin in your arms. secretly you wished that she would be there when you woke up, knowing well she wouldn’t.

you felt empty when you woke up, yunjin’s presence not being there. you stared out at the rising sun, before you notice a little note in front of you.

‘i’ll always love you.’ it read, with no signature. but you knew who wrote it, not even needing to think twice.

you’ll always think about huh yunjin, no matter how much time passes. she just meant that much to you, a girl you met a concert during your worst. you’ll miss her for decades, moving on never working.

wishing you weren’t stuck on someone you couldn’t have, someone you wouldn’t even be able to see ever again.

you missed her so bad, and it hurt so bad knowing you were never going be with her.

#le sserafim #huh yunjin #lesserafim yunjin #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #wlw #kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop writing #kpop x reader #kpop #yunjin huh

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kpop---scenarios · 5 days

Text

Whiplash (1)

Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin

Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to lovers

Word Count: 3.2k

“Y/N against Han!” Chan yells, trying to gather everyone around. You stared at Han, trying to scare him as you impatiently waited for Chan to tell you guys to start. This was always a thing at these parties, you had been the undefeated beer chugging champion for months and still everytime, someone dared to go up against you in hopes of gaining the title. But it never worked, so far no one was able to beat you.

“Good luck.” you hear from beside you. You turn to look, seeing Hyunjin and Felix, both standing there with a smile on their faces, smiles that melt your fucking heart. Felix sends you a little wink as you turn to face Han, making your heart flutter.

You were so fucking in love with both of them.

You had known Hyunjin and Felix for years. The three of you had met by chance, at a party just like this and you still weren't sure what caused it but the three of you became pretty inseparable very quickly. And over those years the three of you had become the best of friends. Friends who told each other everything, even the hard things. The three of you had your ups and downs throughout the years but there was nothing that you wouldn't do for each other.

Over the years, you had only ever seen two sides of Hyunjin and Felix. The first side was the sweet caring side that brought you flowers and ice cream to cheer you up when you had broken up with your piece of shit boyfriend.

And the second side of them was the terrifyingly angry side. They had both beat the shit out of your ex boyfriend when they found out he was cheating on you. Even though you had been friends for a long time, somewhere along the way you had fallen for both of them. Not by choice of course. You never wanted this to happen but somehow, somewhere the platonic love you had for them turned romantic. Those feelings however, were shoved deep down inside of you, and were never allowed to see the light of day. They made it so fucking hard for you to keep those feelings in check. Whenever you were around one or both of them, they were constantly touching you, holding onto you. It was like they needed to be near you and still, you continuously told yourself that you could never go there with either of them. Those things between you needed to stay purely platonic and you would just have to be okay with that.

But you weren't okay with it. You never showed your romantic love for them when you were around both or any mutual friends. Even when you watched women flirt with each of them, and them flirting back. The desperation you felt to be the one that they touched like that, or talked too like that. The best you could do was dream about it. You weren't about to put yourself or them in that position, you didn't want what you already had to be ruined. If you confessed to either and one didn't feel the same or both, there's no coming back from that. The three of you would never be the same. You didn't want to lose your best friends.

“Ready.” chan yells. “Set…” He smiles. “And go!”

You begin chugging one out of 4 beers in front of you, then the second, and the third. By the time you got to the fourth one, Han was just starting his third.

You could see Hyunjin and Felix out of the corner of your eye smiling and rooting for you to win, instead of their other friend. As you finished your last beer, you threw your cup on the floor before lifting your hands above your head to celebrate while you relished in the sound of everyone clapping for you and cheering you on.

Han walked away looking defeated while you took a shot that you didn't need. You were already drunk, but it helped when Hyunjin had walked over to you, a smile on his face as he picked you up and spun you around.

"You're amazing." He laughs, setting you down on the floor. You could feel the blush spreading across your face as he stared at you. Felix came over, pulling you out of Hyunjin's embrace and into his own. “That's my girl.” Felix smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes never leaving yours like the two of you were in a goddamn drama. You could feel your heart racing so hard while the liquor flowed through your body. your knees were weak. Out of nowhere, Han shoves in between you two, sticking his finger in your face.

"You." He hiccups. "I want a rematch." He finishes. You smile at the drunk man, already forgetting about the moments with Hyunjin and Felix.

"You wanna go again?” You laugh. “Are you sure you want to lose again?" You ask, heading back to the table. You watch as a drunk Chan and drunk Changbin try to fill more cups up with beer, laughing as they spill some all over the table.

"3, 2, 1." Everyone yells before you and Han have your rematch. You were already drunk, so you were moving a little slower than before but Han, he was a mess. He was trying not to gag as he finished his first beer, while you were already starting on your third. You knew you could take your time and sip it but you wanted to destroy him.

And you did.

"Don't take it too hard." You drunkenly slur, suddenly feeling dizzy. Your legs feel like they're about to give out on you as you tumble back. You brace yourself for the impact you knew was coming from the hard floor, but instead you were graced with the feeling of a hard chest and strong arms holding you up.

“Woah, there drunky.” You hear the extremely deep voice that makes your panties wet. Felix helps you up, standing steadily on your own two feet, his hands on your shoulders as he smiles at you. “Hyunjin.” He calls.

Oh god why?

“She's plastered.” Felix says, smiling at you again. Ugh you wanted to melt.

“Should one of us take you home?” Hyunjin asks.

“Yesssssss. You both take me home and to bed!” You giggle, stumbling towards the front door. Hyunjin and Felix walk after you, trying to help you not to bump into things on your way out of the house. Both men guide you towards Hyunjins car, where he gets into the driver's seat, while Felix helps you into the back seat. He was going to close the door until you pulled him back there with you. He lets out a laugh as he closes the door and you lay your head in his lap. Felix rests his hand on you as you quickly fall asleep. Hyunjin glares at Felix in the back with you as he drives off to your house.

You wake up the next morning with a throbbing head and your entire body being sore. You remembered doing the beer chugging challenge with Han, and then a shot but then your memory cuts out. You rub your eyes as you reach for your phone, and just as you thought messages from Hyunjin and Felix.

[From Hyunjin 3:08am] You might be a little sore in the morning. You tripped on a curb after getting out of the car and running once we got to your building. Felix and I tried to catch you before hand but fuck your quick.

[From Felix 3:10am] I don't care what Hyunjin says, I really did try to grab you before you walked into that door. I hope your head isn't too bad when you get up. Text me and I'll bring you food.

You read through the rest of them, and groan about what a pain in the ass you are when you're drunk. You glance at the time, it's still morning but fuck you could go for a burger right about now. You decided you were going to surprise the two with food, so you got up, took some advil and put on a cute summer dress, chugged a bunch of water before heading out.

You stood outside the house, kicking the door impatiently with food for 8 of you and it was getting heavy.

“I'm fucking coming.” You hear from inside. An angry looking Chan opens the door, until he sees you and then his expression softens.

“Oh shit, let me take that.” Chan says, quickly grabbing the food from your hands, and taking it inside. “Guys, Y/N brought food!” Chan yells. Suddenly seven men emerge from different rooms, coming into the kitchen, murmuring thank you's in between bites of food.

“I told you I'd bring you food.” Felix laughs as he takes a bite of his burger.

“Yeah, but I wanted to do something nice, since I'm assuming you and Hyunjin took care of me last night.” You sigh.

“That we did.” Hyunjin says, glancing at Felix before they both start snickering. Once you all were done eating you sat on the couch, Hyunjin right beside you while Felix sprawled out with his head in your lap. You had no fucking idea what movie was even playing on the screen right now. All your focus was on the fact that Felix had the need to reach up and touch your face constantly, while, you're assuming, accidentally brushing his arm against your nipple. Every single time. While Hyunjin sat there with his hand grasped tightly to your thigh, squeezing it every once in a while. At the end of the first movie Chan had gotten some kind of phone call, saying that the rest of them needed to leave to take care of something. So off went Chan, Seungmin, I.N, Lee Know, Han and Changbin, leaving the three of you alone.

You tried to ignore it, you tried to focus on the show but you were struggling and by the middle of the second movie you couldn't take it anymore.

“Move. Off.” You say, tapping Felix's head. He sits up, displeased that you were getting up. You quickly walk to the kitchen, trying to catch your breath as you squeeze your legs together, trying to sooth your throbbing clit. You lay your head and stomach onto the island in the kitchen, the coolness of the marble helping the heat you were currently feeling. You must have been too busy listening to the sound of your breathing with your eyes closed as you calmed yourself down, because you didn't hear the footsteps that came into the kitchen. You had no idea anyone was there until you felt a pair of hands slide onto your hips as someone stood behind you, rubbing their hands up and down your back. You opened your eyes and saw Hyunjin laying on the island beside you, his face so close to yours you could so easily kiss him at that moment.

“You left us so you could be in here?” Felix asks, gliding his hands through your hair.

“It's cold here.” You sigh. “I was hot in the living room.”

“We could have helped you cool off.” Hyunjin smiles. You squeeze your eyes shut, you were trying to calm yourself down not get even more worked up.

“I have to go.” You announce, standing up.

“Are you going to come to the club tonight?” Felix asks as you grab your purse. “Yup, I will be there. Gonna go get ready.” You say, avoiding more eye contact.

“Well we can come help you.” Hyunjin offers.

“Nope. See you later.” You yell, slamming the door behind you.

A few hours later you're sitting on your bed, just wearing a bra and panties as you let your makeup dry while you're on the phone with your best, and only close girlfriend.

“Seulgi.” You whine. “I can't do it. I'm going to end up jumping them both.”

“Don't do that. Remember what you told me. What if they don't reciprocate your feelings?” She says.

“Okay yeah, whatever. But what if they do?” You say. You knew you were being delusional, but sometimes the way they were with you made you wonder.

“I mean you could try.” She laughs.

“You're supposed to stop me from this shit. Are you sure you can't come tonight?” You sigh.

“I've got a date, and she's fucking hot. I cannot miss it.” Seulgi says.

You groan loudly. “Maybe I should just be a lesbian? Is it easier?”

“Well I've always been one so I dunno, but trust me babe, you'd get chewed up and spit out if you switched sides.” She laughs, loudly. You roll your eyes at her glancing at the time. It was almost 9:30pm and you needed to finish getting ready.

“Shit.” You groan. “Okay, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later. Have fun tonight!” You finish before hanging up the phone. As soon as you're off the phone, you put on some music and start dancing around your room as you fix your hair. You pull out a few potential outfits from your drawers, throwing them on the bed as you sing along to your playlist. As you're dancing as you get yourself into the little black dress you had decided to wear. You slip on your shoes, grabbing your purse and taking one last look at yourself in the mirror before you head out, knowing that Felix and Hyunjin are both outside waiting in the car for you. It seemed to be a bit of an unwritten rule that whenever you were going out with them, they always showed up to your apartment at 10pm on the dot. They did it once and you had never really spoken about It after that but they just continued to do so, not that you were complaining.

The three of you get to the club, and head for the bar. You each take a few shots before Hyunjin and Felix are both dragged out to the dance floor. You knew the girl who grabbed Hyunjin, she was his on and off again fuck buddy on occasion, but the one who took Felix was a stranger. You didn't like it. You didn't like that Felix was dancing with the girl and you sure didn't like that bitch with Hyunjin. She always muttered shit about you under her breath, glared at you and acted as if she was so much better than you. But you put up with it because if Hyunjin was happy then you tried to be happy for him even if it broke you a little each time.

“Hey beautiful.” You hear from behind you. “Can I buy you a drink?” You turn to look, seeing a very attractive man standing there. You glance at the two men dancing, and realize they were in their own worlds so why shouldn't you be?

“I'd love a shot.” You smile as you pat the seat next to you. He sat down and motioned to the bartender for four shots.

“Im simon.” He grins, holding out his hand.

“Y/N.” You reply, gently shaking his hand.

“So what's a girl like you doing over here all by yourself?” He asks. You roll your eyes before laughing.

“What a cliche line.” You giggle, taking your second shot. “My friends were dragged away to the dance floor.” You say motioning behind you. “My other friends are around here somewhere though.”

“Would you like to dance?” He asks.

You nod your head yes, he slides his second shot towards you, motioning for you to take it. You do without question and follow Simon to the dance floor. He stands behind you, his hands on your hips as you get used to the beat and rhythm of the song. It doesn't take you long to feel the music flowing through you as you grind your ass into his crotch. You look around the dance floor, seeing Hyunjin and Felix's eyes focused on you and what you were doing. Your drinks had kicked in full force, making you feel bolder than you should be and you took it up a notch. You danced even more provocatively on Simon, making sure that both men saw you and what you were doing. While you were dancing on him, Simon continued to hand you shot after shot, enjoying the more drunk you got, the sluttier you got until you couldn't take anymore. You'd been dancing for well over an hour, with Hyunjin and Felix continuously watching you while also trying to pay attention to the ones they were with. After 15 minutes, they went and sat in a booth, pretending to listen to what the girls were saying but their eyes were almost always on you. Simon turned you around, too quickly and you stumbled. He looks down at you laughing, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Why don't I take you back to my place?” He asks, smiling at you.

“Okay!” You giggle. Your inhibition was way too low. Simon begins to guide you off the dance floor, heading towards the front doors. You're stumbling all over the place as you try to walk with him. “Come on.” He urges, trying to pull you forward with him.

“Hey.” You hear just as you step out into the fresh air. You feel two hands grab onto your arm, stopping Simon from moving any further.

“Can I help you?” He asks. You lift your head up to see your two favorite men standing there with stone cold faces as they glare at Simon.

“She's not leaving with you.” Hyunjin deadpans. He reaches over grabbing you from Simon's grasp and pulling you into him and Felix, who wraps his arm around your waist.

“Who do.. are you to say who I can go home with!? Huh!?” You ask, staring at both of them. “Maybe I.” You hiccup. “Maybe I need to get off too.. cause of you two!” You yell.

You hadn't noticed Simon take off while you were yelling.

“Because of us?” Felix smiles. “what'd we do?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Don't you know what you do to me?” You sigh. “You make it so hard to be platonic.” You scoff. “The things I wanna do to the two of you are not platonic.” You giggle, as you start wandering off. Both men quickly grab a hand each, both smirking as they guide you towards the car to take you home to put you to bed. They couldn't wait for you to wake up tomorrow.

As they're heading towards your apartment, Hyunjin gets a call.

“Yeah Chan?” He answers. “Tonight? Let me ask him.”

“There's a race tonight. $150k for grand prize.” He tells Felix. They both glance back at your sleeping frame, before back at each other. Felix nods to Hyunjin. “Yeah we'll go. Just gonna drop Y/N off at the house instead and then we'll be there. Text me the address.” He finishes, hanging up the call.

Felix heads back to the group's house instead of yours, carrying you inside before tucking you into Felix's bed. They quietly close the door, heading out to the address Chan texted, hoping that you didn't hear any of that conversation. You didn't know what they did, and they wanted to keep it that way, it was the best way that they could protect what was most important to them.

You.

#stray kids #lee felix #hwang hyunjin #felix smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop icons #skz #skz writing #skz fanfic #skz smut

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seonghwaddict · 9 months

Text

forget-me-not — kim hongjoong

in which the wall separating you and him is very thin, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

neighbour!kim hongjoong! x fem!reader. genre. fluff, comfort. warnings. a storm. wc. 1k

lilo’s notes. happy birthday @pocketjoong!! a little hongjoong drabble to celebrate sky’s birthday!! i also have a permanent taglist now so if you’d like to be added please let me know :]

listening to. round and around, jo yuri.

masterlist

you really hated thunderstorms.

as you lay in bed wide awake a little past midnight, you flinched as thunder roared outside your window, the soft pitter patter of rain hitting the glass not easing your anxious mind. usually you’d be able to handle it, but since you moved into your apartment only two months before, there was a minimal sense of comfort.

despite living here for four months, you hadn’t quite settled in. the furniture from your previous apartment was still on the other side of the country, complications with the transportation preventing you from receiving it until september. but, nevertheless, you did enjoy living here.

sure, the walls were quite thin and most nights you could hear commotion in the neighbouring apartments… but the complex was well kept and the people in the surrounding area were friendly enough. you had even gotten somewhat close with one of your neighbours.

the first time you met hongjoong was in a park just around the corner of the building 3 months ago. you had reached down to pick a flower, unaware of the handsome man reaching for the same one, vision somewhat blocked by the large box of utensils in your other hand. when your fingers brushed against each other, the two of you jumped apart as you realised what had happened.

“oh- um… you… you can have it.” you’d muttered, gesturing to the beautiful white flower.

he had merely smiled and shook his head, a soft smile stretched on his lips. “ no, no, it’s ok. you should take it. i think you would’ve reached it first anyway.”

still unsure, you furrowed your eyebrows and looked around in determination to find an equally pretty flower. finally, your eyes settled on a bundle of baby blue forget-me-nots, setting your box down and walking over two small steps to crouch and pick them. after standing up, you held the bundle of flowers out to him.

“you can have these, then,” you had smiled at him warmly, “they match your sweater.”

he bowed politely and walked away with a small smile after accepting the pretty bundle of flowers while you picked up your box in one hand and the single white flower in the other and walked to your new home. soon enough, you realised you’d have to encounter the cute silver-haired man more frequently than you expected.

this became apparent a day later when you stood in the lobby and called for the elevator to go up to your apartment. once it reached your floor and the doors slid open, there he was, standing on the other side and waiting for the same elevator.

“oh, it’s you,” you wanted to smack yourself in the face for not coming up with something better to say. but, nevertheless, that still got his attention as he glanced up from his phone screen.

after a moment, a look of recognition passed over his face and his eyes seemed impossibly soft. it had something stirring in your stomach and you weren’t sure if you welcomed it. it was then that you learned that he was the one who lived in the apartment on your right and frequently had his friends over who were sometimes so loud you could hear them through the wall of your bedroom. but you didn’t tell him about that last part.

from then on you’d see each other more often, whether it was in that same park, leaving your place as he enters his, small talk in the elevator.

eventually, he even realised how thin the walls were. one night you were scrolling through your phone in the comfort of your bed when you heard a loud thud followed by a “SHIT!” through the wall. You say up, confusion written all over your face as you tentatively knocked on the wall.

“you okay?” it took him a second to respond, looking around his room with just as much confusion to see where the voice came from until his eyes settled on the wall separating his and your bedroom.

“yeah, i’m okay.” he sat cross legged on his bed facing the white wall. then he spoke with a slight laugh, “i knocked over my lamp.”

after that incident, it wasn’t unusual for you to have late night conversations through the wall. sometimes you’d be writing your book, asking for suggestions and forgotten words through it and he would help you out. other times he’s be working on his music, playing it just loud enough for you to hear so you could give him a second opinion.

but now as you lay flinching and sobbing in your bed, everything was silent and you were alone. well… until there was a small knock on the wall by your head.

“you okay?”

you pulled the covers closer and nodded your head, soon realising he couldn’t see you. “yeah, i’m good.”

“really? because i can hear you sobbing through the wall.” you couldn’t see him either, but his face was so full of concern it was obvious he actually cared. “you can talk to me, you know…”

when you didn’t respond immediately, he thought you fell asleep. but your small, shaking voice said otherwise. “i-i’m gonna sound stupid…”

“try me.”

his answer was so sure and caring it nearly brought heat to your face. nearly. because as you opened your mouth to respond, another boom of thunder crashed outside your window that has you cursing loudly. he tilted his head, brows furrowing.

“are you scared of the storm?”

“no… okay, yes maybe a bit… a lot actually.” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut at the prospect you just might have embarrassed yourself in front of your super handsome and pretty much perfect neighbour.

“that’s okay, there’s no need to be ashamed of it.”

you could hear the caring smile in his voice and could almost picture it as well. so, you relaxed. unsure of how to respond, you stayed silent.

“tell me about your day, y/n.”

you knew damn well he was just trying to distract you and talk you into forgetting about the weather, but you answered. and then it turned into another meaningful conversation as he kept your mind too busy to worry about the thunder and rain and lightning. your crying and flinches and shaking subsided quickly and you relaxed as you listened to the voice of the man you were beginning to fall for.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu

#bjnet #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong fluff #hongjoong fluff #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez au #kpop writers #kpop writing #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong drabble #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong scenarios #cromernet

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jjunieworld · 13 days

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𓍼 ˋ✮ TXT MASTERLIST minors dni with my nsfw works or you’ll be blocked!

key: fluff (☁️), angst (🌪️), smut (🥛), smau (📲), written series (📖), one shot (📓), drabble (📄), other (💬), ongoing (🎬), completed (📨), hiatus (📪), discontinued (🗑️) note: for my works, i consider drabbles to be under 2k words. ∿ [ continue on to . . . works in progress or request ]

𓍼 ˋ✮ OT5/MULTI

jjunieworld's 2024 valentine's day event having another member's photocard in your phone⌇💬,☁️ you called your pet "baby" and not them⌇💬,☁️ txt as mitski lyrics⌇💬,🌪️,☁️

𓍼 ˋ✮ YEONJUN 𐙚 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

romeo & juliet⌇📲,☁️,🗑️ the hybe theatre club has an unspoken belief, whoever plays romeo and juliet in the annual play each year will end up falling in love with each other. this year, you and the person you hate the most get casted together.

lip gloss!⌇1.9k - 📄,🥛,☁️ while getting ready for your date, yeonjun notices how you kept licking your lips after applying your lip gloss. let’s just say you don’t make it to your date as planned…

𓍼 ˋ✮ SOOBIN 𐙚 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

all for a bet⌇📲,🌪️,📨 choi soobin has always been the popular kid surrounded by his popular friends. you... not so much. one night, soobin and his friends make bet that soobin can't get you to date him in a month. unfortunately for you, you're a hopeless romantic.

the great bake off!⌇8.6k - 📓,☁️ spilt milk [part two]⌇4.0k - 📓,🥛 after getting fired from your job as a pizza delivery driver, you’re in desperate need to find a new job before you get kicked out of your apartment. that’s when you hear about the local bakery looking for employees. thinking, “why not? i’ve worked with dough before!”, you apply and actually get the job. that’s when you and the son of the bakery’s owner decide that it would be fun to compete to see who can make the most baked goods for a prize.

from the start⌇3.1k - 📓,☁️,🌪️ you never really understood the saying “you’ll always remember your first love,” but that was before you fell in love with your bestfriend soobin. now all of it makes sense. you notice everything about him, from his dimpled smile to the way he could go on and on about the things he loves. and that just makes you fall for him more. cupid has shot an arrow through your heart and you can’t take keeping your feelings for him inside anymore.

lather⌇2.5k - 📄,🥛 to help raise money for charity you and your friends make your way over to the rich neighborhood to handwash cars in your best skimpy bathing suits and clothing.

𓍼 ˋ✮ BEOMGYU 𐙚 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

"kiss the prettiest girl in the room"⌇2.3k - 📓,☁️ you and your bestfriend beomgyu decide on going to a new year’s eve party so you’re not bored at the start of the new year. the party goers suggest that you all should play truth or dare. one of beomgyu’s friends decides to dare him to kiss the prettiest girl in the room, knowing you have a crush on him.

don't delete the kisses⌇9.3k - 📓,🌪️,🥛 two years ago, you admitted to yourself that you were in love with your bestfriend beomgyu. two years ago, you and your bestfriend beomgyu stopped being bestfriends. now he’s an up and coming musician and you see his face and hear his music almost everywhere in your local town; not knowing that the songs he writes are about you.

more than this?⌇3.1k - 📓,🥛 when beomgyu asked you to be fuck buddies, you thought it was risky considering your already growing feelings for him. but, you just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be close to him in any way that you could. now you’re wondering if the two of you will ever be anything more than this.

𓍼 ˋ✮ TAEHYUN 𐙚 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

february 14th⌇13.6k - 📓,🌪️,☁️ this has to be the worst day of your life. and just your luck, the day keeps repeating. over and over again. and you don’t know why. you get to relive the same day where you finally garner the courage to ask your crush, kang taehyun, out and get to relive the part where he rejects you each time.

6:41am⌇0.9k - 📄,☁️ you’re awoken early in the morning from taehyun’s alarm to go to the gym and decide to go with him. you end up distracting him from his routine with your staring and decide to encourage him with kisses to help him.

meet cute⌇1k - 📄,☁️ you had a thought and a dream, you were going to be a magician. so you did what one who wants to be a magician does next, you went to a magic store. and what did you do? accidentally knock over a shelf of bang snaps and came face to face with an actual magician.

𓍼 ˋ✮ HUENINGKAI 𐙚 soft thoughts ⋆ hard thoughts

stupid cupid!⌇6.5k - 📓,☁️ hueningkai, better known as cupid, is known for his art in helping people fall in love. shooting his arrows here and there, getting those who are meant to be together. what happens when after he shoots one of his love arrows at you, the other one somehow ends up hitting him?

spin the bottle⌇1.4k - 📄,☁️ you’re what people like to call a “wallflower.” your more extroverted friends have been doing everything in their power to try and break you out of that. so they dragged you along to a party and somehow you’re stuck playing spin the bottle with people you barely know.

a bed in your shape⌇1.4k - 📄,🌪️ a life in your eyes [part two]⌇7k - 📓,🌪️,🥛 for as long as you could remember, you’ve been in love with your bestfriend kai. the only problem is, he never loved you back. yet, you can’t stop imagining your life with him.

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jonnnysuh · 1 year

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rating svt on if they’d still love you as a worm

Requested by anon

A/N: the second quotations are your response!

Series masterlist

—S COUPS 9.5/10 “Yeah. I’d cut up an apple for you and watch you go crazy with it”

—JEONGHAN -373837/10 “Oh, I would probably roll you in sand and leave you to bake in the sun”

—JOSHUA 9/10 “Yeah… I think so. If I ever saw you on the pavement I’d move you to the grass so no one could step on you”

—JUN 10000/10 “I’d find a way to become a worm with you. We can lay in the soil together and form a heart 🫶”

—HOSHI 10/10 *points to you* “If you’re a worm” *points to himself* “then I’m a bird. Because you’re looking like a whole SNACKKKK”

—WONWOO 2/10 *taps on his chin to think* “I’d still love you but as a friend… a friend worm”

—WOOZI 2/10 “I’d cut you in half so there’s two of you squirming around”

—DK 3.7/10 “yes of course, because if I’m patient enough I’ll get to watch you turn into a beautiful butterfly”

“THAT’S A CATERPILLAR, DOOFUS”

—MINGYU 10/10 “I’d keep you in my pocket and show you around the world”

“You’d carry a worm around with you?”

“Well yeahhhhhh, if it was you”

—THE8 0/10 “No because you’d never become a worm. It’s not possible”

“But what if I did?”

“You kinda look like one already so I guess”

—SEUNGKWAN 5/10 “I love you as you are and that’s all that matters”

“Booooo 🍅🍅”

“Okay yes I’d love you as a worm. Just don’t be turning into one tomorrow”

—VERNON 0/10 “🤨🤨 uhhhh why?”

“Just a hypothetical”

“Then probably…🤔 hmmm 🫤 probably not”

—DINO 4??/10 “I’d like you more because you’d finally be able to do the worm and I think that’s very important for our relationship”

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loserlvrss · 19 days

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꒰ 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓! ꒱ 김동현

summary : you’ve been bored of your boyfriends calm demeanor, so you decided to prank him just to see if he’d start a fight — however, it gave you something much better

genre : kinda angsty, suggestive, leehan x afab!reader tws : language, kinda toxic behavior, suggestive content author notes : sorry this took a while i’ve been supah swamped but i hope you enjoyed the direction i took your request in !! word count : 1.4k

you don’t know why you were doing this. even as you applied the black, green and blue makeup, you couldn’t think of a valid reason. yet, here you were, sat on your couch scrolling through your phone, just awaiting the opportunity to prank your sweet, unsuspecting boyfriend.

maybe he’d gotten too comfortable in your relationship. hell, you used whatever excuse to try and justify it. but, the truth is, you wanted to see if he had it in him to get mad at you. he was so damn peaceful all the time — you loved that about him, really — nonetheless, deep down, your heart raced with the thought; the anticipation when he’d finally catch a glimpse of your artwork that he’d deem someone else’s.

this was fun.

you knew it’d work. you’ve never let leehan purposefully leave marks on your skin, not because it didn’t feel good to have him kiss you, but simply because you’ve always found them tacky and a hassle to cover up. you’d wasted so much makeup in the past trying to do so, so whenever he’d come close to leaving purple patches, you’d tell him to stop. he’d even bargained with leaving them in places only he could see, but you still refused. especially if you couldn’t return the favor.

you knew this was an evil way to push his buttons, that you oh-so-desperately wanted to see pushed. it was selfish, really, however at this moment in time the plan was already set into action. you wanted to start a fight, just to see if he could.

he’s never gotten mad at you. he’s never yelled at you. he’s never dared put a hand on you. and that was a dream, but somewhere deep down, you knew it was also just as boring as it was desirable. you wanted him to yell at you — at least once — manhandle you — consensually, of course — you wanted so much, and maybe this wasn’t the right way to bring it up, but it didn’t matter anymore as his voice broke through the silenced air.

“what’s that?”

“what’s what?” you asked, acting obliviously as you scrolled through twitter and instagram in turns.

he shrugged, and you don’t know if it was the fact that he seemingly didn’t care, or if it was that maybe he just brushed it under the rug as anything else, that began to piss you off.

nonetheless, you decided you were in it for the long run. after all, you wanted to see if he’d start the fight.

and throughout the rest of the afternoon you’d catch leehan staring in your direction, shifting his gaze when you’d make eye-contact. he kept a calm demeanor, never asking again what the purple marks on your neck were. he’d even hugged you before he left for practice, getting all up close and personal with the artwork.

you were finding it hard to believe he hadn’t noticed.

maybe he was gathering his thoughts. maybe he was trying to decided why you didn’t smell like another man — why he knew you wouldn’t do that to him. maybe as much as his buttons were pushed, this was it for his stemmed anger. maybe dance practice was his way to relieve the stress you caused from time-to-time. maybe the cool, calm and collected leehan was the only version of your otherwise, smiley, boyfriend.

maybe you were beginning to feel bad because you had no idea the feelings he had towards this prank. did it upset him? you wouldn’t be none-the-wiser to it if it had. he was good at shielding emotions, and maybe that’s where you needed to draw the line. maybe that’s where your conversation should’ve began, instead of whatever the hell tiktok had inspired you to do.

you kept looking at the clock on your home screen, counting down the minutes until he’d come back to you. and just as you had decided to end the prank, opting for a civil — adult-ish — conversation, a text illuminated your dark screen.

it read: we need to talk.

yet you couldn’t decipher the hidden meaning. of course you knew what it was about, that’s the only thing that’s been wrong throughout the last few months between you two. what else could it be? and why, now that you were finally getting what you wanted, didn’t it feel good?

you didn’t answer him, partially because you didn’t know what to say; it was a prank. i just wanted to see if you’d get mad at me. i’m so bored of this. nothing seemed correct, or frankly, truthful.

you also knew that he wasn’t far. he wouldn’t have texted you otherwise, just to torcher you — though it would’ve been deserved. so, you waited by the door for your boyfriend to get back, the thought of washing away the eyeshadow long gone.

then, it finally opened with the pattern of your key code. the air became thick and you found it hard to swallow with a lump in your throat. were you sorry? yes. did you feel bad for being immature? yes. was a tiny part of you still curious to see how this would play out?

yes.

"y/n," was the first, and only, thing he muttered for a couple of excruciatingly long minutes. you watched as he put his bag down, eyed him as he took his shoes off, and almost burst when he ran a hand through his hair. maybe leehan was able to torcher you, even if unintended.

his eyes finally met yours, but then they drifted to your neck, and further to your collar bone. he knew. he's known since the first question left his lips hours and hours ago.

"what's that?" his arms snaked between each other, and you found it wrong to think it was hot, but you very much did.

almost like deja vu, the same feeling crept up from down within you. "what's what?" you reenacted. although this time, he didn't let it go. he approached you quickly, too fast to get away before you were sandwiched between the plaster and his body.

his hands were slow with movements. those oh-so-stupid-fucking-hands that had you, literally, at his fingertips. one forcing your head by your jaw to expose your neck, while the other brushed away the hair that disguised the marks from his view.

you fronted being indifferent, but truth be told, if he wasn't holding you up your knees would have buckled already, leaving you as a mess on the floor in front of him.

"you must think i don't know you," he voiced, holding eye-contact as he pushed his thumb between your lips, gathering just enough saliva to then press the digit to your neck and swipe. and it smudged with enough force, despite being labeled as waterproof. "tell me why you felt the need to paint these on. i couldn't think of one good reason all day, princess."

and the nickname he always called you — innocently and less than — had your heart in absolute shambles; the anticipation was just as good as if he'd raised his voice you thought. maybe your vanilla-scented boyfriend had finally gotten the hint that you wanted more, despite going about it in a less than thoughtful way. and maybe you realized that you didn't hate that he was always nice, no you loved that about him, but sometimes it was okay if he wanted to be a little bit meaner with you. after all, he could always say my ... anything he wanted, and that would still mean that he saw you as his forever only.

"i-i," you couldn't think straight when he attached his lips over the previously (fakely) marked spots. his breath was hot, lips gentle then firm as he sucked against the spots he knew you'd rarely let him have his way with. "i — uh, fuck. leehan,"

his voice was low against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and a whimper up your throat, "if you wanted something, you could've just asked me, baby. i'd give you anything."

the eyes that you've grown comfortable with always seemed to be there despite the firm placement he had you in. you knew he loved you more than anything, so you knew his words were true. and his demeanor broke when he kissed your lips, almost giving you whiplash.

his palms laid flat against your cheeks, thumbs rubbing sweetly, "if you wanted everyone to know that you're mine, let me do it myself."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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yoonia · 10 months

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the bedroom hymns ● chapter list

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Summary | A threat against your father’s empire has forced him to send you away from the only place you have known to be your home, from the heaven-like prison which you have always dreamed about escaping, only to find yourself in a new kind of confinement. Haunted by the questions about your father’s past and the dark tales that seem to follow him, the thousand mysterious doors and the secrets waiting for you to reveal, and the mysterious Prince that has been following your shadows between realms, you are off to a new adventure in the Land Far Far Away.

⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Princess!reader, Fantasy au, Fairy Tale retelling au, Faerie au, Angst, Mystery, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; this story contains classism, threats of assassination, curses, dark magic, rumours about serial killers, mentions of abductions, mentions of arranged marriages, betrayal, manipulation, depiction of war, fantasy typical violence, mentions of blood and wounds, minor descriptions/depictions of injuries, fantasy weapons (swords, etc), mentions/depictions of death, mentions/depictions of domestic abuse, alcohol use — also includes mature and explicit sexual scenes (...more details will be added as I continue writing this piece...) ⟶ Status / Current word count / Total word count | ONGOING; latest update: chapter xvii. divulgence (Apr 15th, 2023) - 126,234 words of n/a words ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊, 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖗 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖞…

⏤ Written by @yoonia for the Once Upon A Fantasy collab; with @jamaisjoons, @yeoldontknow, @inkedtae, @opaljm, @kookdiaries, @kth1fics

⏤ Crossposted on: AO3, Wattpad

⟶ Chapters

⇢ prologue. the bluebeard’s tale

⇢ chapter i. when the stars are aligned

⇢ chapter ii. the wicked king

⇢ chapter iii. dreamers

⇢ chapter iv. in bloom

⇢ chapter v. homecoming

⇢ chapter vi. the castle by the sea

⇢ chapter vii. the secret doors

⇢ chapter viii. chasing shadows

⇢ chapter ix. secrets

⇢ chapter x. wanderers-1

⇢ chapter xi. wanderers-2

⇢ chapter xii. alias

⇢ chapter xiii. red strings-1

⇢ chapter xiv. red strings-2

⇢ chapter xv. crescendo

⇢ chapter xvi. respite

⇢ chapter xvii. divulgence

⇢ chapter xviii. serendipity

⇢ (...more chapters coming soon...)

⟶ References

⇢ visual references

⟶ Patreon specials

⇢ visual moodboard

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hwaightme · 4 months

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Impressionism

(masterlist) (taglist)

🩸 pairing: vampire!gallerist/collector!seonghwa x art historian!gn!reader 🩸 genre: fluff, noir, soulmates, supernatural, strangers(?) to lovers, art nerding 🩸 summary: a post-graduate student specialising in impressionism, you were a regular visitor to the many art galleries in the city. who knew that among the paintings you would encounter your favourite, timeless work of art? 🩸 wordcount: 12.3k 🩸 warnings/tags: questionable editing, mention of blood, fangs, wounds, suggestive, many pet names (love, darling etc), art theory/history ponderings, time skips, mention of rituals, philosophy, hwa is centuries-old, yearning hwa 🩸 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🩸 a/n: happy birthday to @starrysvn!! lheo, ilysm, and i hope you enjoy this little rambling <3 hugs to everyone, all reblogs, notes and comments appreciated! 🩸 playlist: nfwmb - hozier, who is she? - i monster, keep on loving you - cas, la vie en rose - edith piaf, a l'ombre de nous - pierre barouh, les feuilles mortes / sous le ciel de paris - yves montand, moon over bourbon street / until - sting

‘Love and Pain’ - an enigmatic masterpiece that was painted by Edvard Munch, the famous Norwegian artist, in 1895. In vibrant oil paints a dramatic scene interpreted by millions as something more sensual, darker, revealing was immortalised. Perhaps quite literally. You leaned back on one hand, feeling the coolness of the bench located in the middle of the gallery hall, careful to not let the notebook in your hands slip from your lap. ‘Vampire’ - first, it was a label for the woman with the alluring, long red locks that was leaning over her supposed lover, then it turned into a second name for the work. It was comical how Munch himself had initially stated the piece depicted nothing more than a woman kissing the neck of a man, and yet, the tale had told itself. What followed were six versions of this same subject, with a woodcut titled “Vampyr II”, followed by paintings titled ‘Vampire’ and ‘Vampire in the Forest’, and then through common acceptance that this indeed was the ‘submission of a man to the bite of a vampire’, if you were to paraphrase a critic who had been in an astoundingly similar position as you, except without the decades upon decades of other material to refer to. They had been the firstcomers, the initial perceivers to set the tone for society’s consumption of the artwork, the louder of the many voices in the artwork who often had the final say. In some senses, they were your long lost colleagues - they were there to create history, and you were there to study it.

While it was not exactly a part of the movement you had decided to specialise in, you nonetheless would never reject the opportunity to learn more about the stunning world of visual arts, trying to guess how the artist had felt in the moment, what did they see beyond what they presented to the world, how did they translate the heart into brushstrokes. You were taken by all forms of art since you were little - having grown up surrounded by items that were far removed from what you called your air, you were intrigued by anything that was external to your version of ordinary. In your case, it just so happened to be the little private gallery that you had spent almost all of your monthly allowance to visit when you were a school kid - you had been so dedicated, in fact, that the elderly guard who had often also acted as a guide to the visitors had become your first friend in the art world, something of a grandparent figure, and on multiple occasions - when the lack of eyes would allow, simply let you through with a grin and glance out of the entrance doors.

And so here you were, many years later, many hard decisions and conversations behind you, regarding artworks with an unprecedented soulful closeness that you had initially thought was unattainable. Had you believed all those who remained outside of the walls of your personal paradise, you would have been immersed in the same cycle that had been drilled into the majority of your family members, except maybe a handful who you had never met for the exact reason that they had chosen something for themselves. But you regarded your dream as the thorned path - undoubtedly more challenging, not immediately fruitful, but in the long run leading to the heaven of your design. What more could you ask for?

It was enjoyable to be alone with the paintings surrounding you, portals to new realms that any visitor could have the pleasure of exploring. And what was even more inspiring, was that in the eye of every beholder was a different universe, and no matter who one would speak to, their version of the painting would be different, even if just slightly. You huffed, amused. When was the last time you had visited a gallery with anyone else? You could not quite recall - it was likely that you had never seeked company from another because you were more than satisfied with the company of the legendary works that were regarding you from the many walls. It was possible to compose oneself, spend limitless time on every piece, study the details, and drift into one’s own musings when there was no one to ground them. This was when you dared to say you got your best work done. Even though you, of course, conducted research within university and ventured out to galleries, museums, collectors or auctions only within professional bounds, the bulk of the thinking process was carried out in times such as this. When it was just you, your notebook and pen, and a new point of focus. However, this time, you could not say you were fully attentive to the painting that you had decided to focus on, as a certain someone was appearing to share your level of interest in ‘Love and Pain’ too.

A gentleman who could not be much older or younger than you, at most a couple of years, stood off to the right of the bench, unmoving, gaze fixated on the painting. Dressed in a pinstripe navy suit, light blue dress shirt, lacquered dress shoes and a matching navy tie, he was nothing short of being a moving work of art. Hints of a glimmer from his thin framed, elegant silver spectacles gave the man a scholarly aura, while the slicked back dark hair - evidently a lot longer than the styling would suggest, added notes of business, entrepreneurship, perhaps leadership. Nothing was out of place, not a crease, not an exposed thread in sight. Needless to say, your curiosity had been sparked.

Much like you found joy in exploring creations in the realm of the visual arts, you were fond of crafting stories about the people who were strangers in passing. You could not help it; perhaps this affinity for creative internal ramblings had come as a package with studying the degree you had selected, or perhaps this was a naturally occurring guilty pleasure that you simply had not had the chance to entertain before you cut yourself off from expectations and predetermined patterns of thought. But now, you had the full pleasure of wondering, letting your mind travel to lands far away as you took the real life masterpiece in, and pondered why the man could be here, what he could be thinking as he studied Munch’s work, and what resonated with him, and only him.

There was a melancholia with the weight of centuries resting upon his shoulders, that much you could decipher in the stranger’s stance. Even then, there was a gentle burning flame within his heart judging by just how dedicated he was to inspecting the artwork. Like he was seeing an old friend for the first time in years, and was attempting to memorise them anew and recognise each change, bit by bit. You suppressed a chuckle, entertaining the possibility of this man finding a kinship with the painting, but chose to set the idea aside for the time being, instead focusing on sketching his emotional landscape. Was the stranger remorseful? Lonely? Perplexed? You could not quite pinpoint the answer, at least not before you noticed the man’s head starting to turn, and soon enough, his eyes were peering into your own.

They were two pools of deep chocolate, an all-consuming shade that, due to the ever so slightly dimmer lights than in the general halls of the gallery, appeared to be approaching a captivating onyx. The gaze that originated from behind the glasses, and glided across the room that was suddenly too small for two struck you, and you could feel heat starting to rise on your face, blush threatening to reveal the effect of the man’s spontaneous act of confidence. Lowering your head, you gave the stranger a sheepish grin, and pretended to make a random note, pen erratically scribbling over a filled page. He continued to regard you with that same unwavering expression, and only when you looked up again did he seem to catch himself and give you a closed-mouth smile, equally as bashful as yours, and crossed his arms. One step, another, and he was right by the painting, though careful to not obstruct your view - instead, he took his time to read the brief paragraph on the information plaque that had been stuck to the wall off to the side of ‘Love and Pain’. With the same familiarity that is common among those grieving, or in a state of existential sorrow. A bittersweetness prevailed in his aura, one that reminded you of autumn - the falling leaves in red and gold, twirling to join a magnificent carpet, but nonetheless, making a departure, albeit a nearly unnoticeable one. Had he seen many fallen leaves? Was he himself approaching the season? You gasped, but even though the sound was barely audible, you caught the stranger making a minuscule turn in response.

His footsteps were louder than your thoughts, his departure an irrevocably impactful act that left you breathless. You did not know him, and yet you felt as though you had gotten a glimpse at multiple lifetimes, and were part of a moment that was greater than yourself. In the wordless exchange, question after question had found its root, and something told you that you should not dare attempt to craft him a backstory, and choosing to believe in anything but what would be declared by him would be a gross misinterpretation, much like one that was carried out by those who did not wish to reflect on art and look beyond a first impression. For the first time since you had made your initial discovery of the arts, you felt like you were not alone in the gallery, the other visitor’s presence remained so intense that he could be sat right next to you, scrutinising the same painting, entertaining the same thought. Was the woman with the bright tresses indeed what she had been declared to be over the many years she had been introduced to many venues, many variations of public, and finally finding a home on this wall? Did she settle with her lover, or perhaps a carefully selected victim? Would the man have an answer?

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ . It was unlike you to retrace your steps a mere few days after a visit and return to the same gallery, amble down the same halls, and seek for a new source of investigative inspiration among the same selection. This obviously did not mean that you would never return, definitely not, that would be almost criminal of you to possess such intentions, but you tended to try to cleanse your palate with alternative movements, contemporary takes and avant garde interpretations between searches which were more directly related to your studies. And yet, for the first time in a while, nothing was stopping you from your return. It felt only natural, and so right. Moreover, you felt no unease when you headed straight towards the section that housed the impressionists. An individual with an unspoken, mysterious mission, you were on the hunt for the creative streak, something that would help you ponder the next section of your hefty dissertation, and you could sense that it had to be somewhere here. And, like always, you were right.

‘Bazille’s Studio’, one of the most famous works painted by the so-called ‘tragic artist’ of the impressionists, Frédéric Bazille in 1870. In fact, it had been a collaboration between him and Édouard Manet, another gifted artist, though more renowned as a figure leading modernism, and depicted a scene of discussion and creative collaboration in the studio that Bazille had shared for a certain period of time with other spectacular figures of the visual arts, Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, who could also be found in this painting. On the walls were works rejected by the Salon, which at the time had been the one of the most influential, famous art exhibitions in the Western World, administered by the Académie des Beaux-Arts in Paris. Interestingly, above the piano on the right hung a painting which Bazille had purchased from Monet, potentially hinting at the material ties between them, and the importance the young artist had because of his familial wealth. In a sense, Bazille expressed his support, as well as showed an intimate, platonic scene of the art world where there was a moment of calm, of mutual appreciation, despite the financial troubles and tensions due to character that had been experienced in those walls.

You stepped closer to the painting, trying to detect the transition from Bazille’s to Manet’s hand, the latter of whom painted in the former to take ‘centre stage’, palette in hand. Truly seamless work, though what else could it be? This painting had been a new addition to the permanent collection, and after strenuous, detailed restoration work to give the oil paints their original vibrancy and for impeccable strokes to forget the burden of time, you had the pleasure of seeing it in person. You were an arm’s length away from yet another work essential to history, culture and the arts as a societal colossus.

While it was easy enough to appreciate the technical detail, you found yourself halting to remember the names of all those depicted in the painting, failing to finalise the list in your head. Starting from Bazille, you had determined for yourself the presence of Monet and Manet in his vicinity quickly enough, however where Renoir was, or what were the names of the two other gentlemen in the scene, slipped your mind. You rocked to the side to lean closer to the plaque that was meant to provide you with the information, however you only found the name of the painting, the artist and the medium, much to your misfortune. Clicking your tongue, you returned to studying the faces of each individual, and furrowed your brows in agitated concentration. It was simple to take out your phone and search for the answer, though you knew that just as neutral that action would be, so would be your reaction unless you were to remember, or somebody were to-

A presence to your side caught you off-guard, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. One glance was enough to determine that it was the same man from yesterday, only the outfit revealing a change. Other than that, he had the same impeccable posture and stance, as well as a thoughtful look towards the painting in front of you both. His arms were crossed, though not in a defensive manner; instead they offered an interpretation of philosophy, as though this man was carrying centuries of wisdom with him, history having pummelled down on him and yet needing to support it like Atlas; the titan carrying the world.

Today, he was dressed in a mahogany coloured suit, with a white top underneath and some black boots with thick white rubber soles - quite the transition from last time, when he had been a manifestation of a sleek and pristine office gentleman. Hair, now let down and wavy, neatly framed his face, accentuating the regalness of his features. It was astounding how you were still sure that it would be more likely to find a man of this fashion in a painting, rather than standing beside you. You kept quiet, not wanting to interfere with his musings. Perhaps it was just a silly coincidence that the two of you were at the same place and at the same time again - how else? You did not know him, and you hoped that he did not know you. Though, you truly did not mind his company, and maybe it could serve as your motivation to figure out the rest of the characters in the painting. Once again, your attention returned to the task at hand, but before you could even begin to list off prominent figures of the art world during the era of Impressionism, a deep, honey-like whisper halted you and made you hold your breath.

“Auguste Renoir is the one seated, Emile Zola, the writer, is on the stairs, Monet, Manet and Bazille are, as you likely know in the centre, and that,” he paused to raise his hand, gesturing in the general direction of the far right of the piece, “is Edmond Maitre. Pianist, art collector, and Bazille’s closest friend.”

“I- uh- thank you. How did you know I was trying to recall? Pardon me, I must look so clueless-” you trailed off, eyes finding the floor, an action which seemed to be your automatic response to being under inspection of the man, though this time, he captured your gaze quickly by stepping closer towards you. Looking up, you found concern and apology in his eyes.

“No! Not at all, I… sorry if I misunderstood and I am sorry for forcing you into such erroneous conclusions,” he gave you an ever so slightly crooked smile, charming, very disarming and so suiting this beautiful stranger, that you were instantly prompted by your instincts to return it, dismissing doubt.

“You saved me,” you joked, though the phrase contained within itself an unlikely compassion. Two people, alone in the same gallery, sharing a precious dialogue was something to cherish, and with all your might you wanted to make it last.

“Just as you made me regard the painting in a new light, for which I thank you, greatly,” he bowed his head, the smile not leaving his face for a moment. There was a recognition in his gaze, as well as an inexplicable admiration. What did he discover?

“I guess it might be true that no matter how many times you see a painting, every viewing brings something new,”

“Well said. Are you an artist? A critic, perhaps?” He inquired, moving closer to stand level with you, head turned slightly in your direction to spare the occasional glance. You shook your head slowly, wondering if in a retelling of your destiny you could have pursued either of the careers he had mentioned.

“I am in the arts, though rather than looking at the present I remain in the past. Art historian, well, a postgraduate. Nothing too fancy.”

“Oh? But that is marvellous, and what are you focusing on?”

“I like to call it the painting in plenair during the turn of the century. I focus mainly on impressionism, though do sometimes stray into its interplay with post-impressionism, modernism and expressionism.”

“Ah, no wonder I have been seeing you here often. Enjoying the new collection?” he asked, eager to hear your opinion. There was excitement in his voice as though you were a renowned expert and were about to bestow upon him a priceless evaluation. And this was without considering the technicality of you having only half-met. Just crossing paths twice in one week.

"Yes, of course… The collection is unlike any other I have seen. I keep wanting to return and stay here for ages." You explained, glancing at the stranger while he nodded along.

"Incredibly happy to hear it. I swear I have seen you around quite often during the past month that the exhibition has been open? Am I correct?" evidently, your rapid blinking was interpreted rather quickly as perplexion, for the man gasped ever so lightly, as if to catch his own speeding thoughts.

“I- how do you know? I do believe this is our… second time meeting?” you uttered, one eyebrow raised in suspicion, which, to your disbelief, revealed something akin to fear in the beautiful stranger’s features. Nervously, he adjusted a strand of hair that was threatening to cover his right eye.

“Not quite… you were present at the opening event, right?” he quizzed.

“Indeed, my depar- wait. But how? Respectfully, I am starting to think you know me.” you enunciated with newfound caution, while the man pursed his lips. One second, another passed in near total silence, until a chuckle escaped him and he shook his head. It appeared as though he was mentally scolding himself - his eyes held no malice, instead glinting with hope, that melancholic wisdom, and something unidentifiable, ethereal, supernatural.

“I think it is high time I introduce myself before this gets out of hand. See, in some sense I work here, and most of my days are spent in the gallery or labouring for it-”

“Ah, I see-”

“Park Seonghwa, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” with one arm folded behind his back and the other on his chest, he bowed to you like how you imagined princes in the numerous portraits you had studied would bow. And the most enthralling part was how the gesture flowed, and was so befitting. Quickly, you bowed in return, but while raising your head, you froze. It hit you why he would know. And know a lot. And would remember you, and likely anyone and everyone who visited. In a low whisper, you asked:

“Am I… correct in assuming that you are ‘the’ Park Seonghwa?” quickly enough, you realised that it was a mistake to find his eyes again - clearly, you were not ready for the intensity, nor for the intrigue that was contained within them, nor for the fact that he moved another step closer to you, the rubber of his boots dampening any sound produced.

“I never knew that there was a ‘the’ attached to my name. I simply love art.”

“Well that love translated into the creation of what is possibly the greatest gallery in the nation, if not worldwide,”

“Oh you flatter me too much, ah, your name-”

“L/N Y/N, and I, too, love art.”

“Elated to hear it,” he gleamed, and you swore the room exploded with the illumination of a thousand stars.

Stunning, awe-inspiring, ever so elegant. He was a walking dream. In that smile was concealed a certain something that had been taboo, a well-kept secret until a couple of decades ago, when those like Seonghwa had started to be fully integrated into society, and no longer had to hide, changing identity from one century to another. With that came Seonghwa’s success - you had read in an article that advertised the permanent exhibition a short blurb of his story, and how for many turbulent decades, the man single-handedly collected masterpieces, crafted a meticulous network and introduced genius artists to the world, and the world to the artists. The gallery was a magnum opus for Seonghwa - a presentation of what he had achieved as a collector, as a patron of the arts, and a celebration of his personal culture.

You could not help but hone in on the fangs, and recall the original reason why it was even possible for Seonghwa to obtain such legendary works and have as much influence as he presently did. It was not spontaneous; submerged in turmoil, he had personally approached artists who, previously abandoned by critics and other prospective buyers, had never considered a future beyond a mysterious tomorrow. Hiding his own true nature, he crafted the tale of a ‘Park’ dynasty, and rose again and again to continue his work. Perhaps, now, some might argue that once he had revealed himself as a vampire the velocity of Seonghwa’s developments had fallen, but you would passionately argue the opposite. It was challenging to believe that any move by this stunning artistic mastermind was not strategic - the announcement had given the gallery more partnerships, more donations, and in turn, an even greater prominence in the community both among professionals and enjoyers.

“Thank you,” the phrase spilled from your lips inadvertently. It seemed to be the only thing that was reasonable to say in that given moment. You pondered the pains that must have been suffered to make the world that you were consumed by come together, and the painting in front of you, aside from what was contained within the frame,now shined in a new light externally too, possessing its own story, resembling a search for a kindred spirit, a true home.

Seonghwa remained quiet, the words of gratitude echoing in his heart. It was endearing, encouraging to hear such warmth from you. So, you did know him, at least the parts he had shown to the public - as was expected from someone so deeply ingrained in visual arts and history, but he could not help but identify it as something much greater than mere awareness. The openness with which you had welcomed conversation with him, the kind charm that radiated from you as you engaged in the careful verbal waltz reminded the vampire of times long, long ago when all that existed for him was drive, enamourment and art. Oh, how your eyes glimmered. His heart clenched into near unbearable agony as he read your expressions, and wondered how much you have seen, what have you yet to see, who you were in this temporary life. If only he could ask fate to tell him how much you remembered of who you had been before.

“No, thank you, for giving this,” he gestured to the gallery around him, graceful hand unfurling as though revealing a delicate flower, “meaning, and reason to exist.”

“I highly doubt I am of much significance, Mister Park,” you responded, a soft smile on your face.

“Would anything hold the same meaning if there was no one to behold it?” he responded. You chose not to answer, catching onto the rhetoricism, “and please, call me Seonghwa. I’d like to say we are to be good friends.”

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

Sitting across from Seonghwa in the cafe that was located on the top floor, above the main halls of the gallery made you feel strangely serene. Today he had foregone the straighter hair styles that you had begun to get used to, surprising you with a head of tousled, almost curled locks that embodied the world’s softness, though remained to be quite the contrast to the more formal and highly fashionable attire that adorned his stature. A suit, tastefully oversized with a buttoned double breasted jacket that was simultaneously serving as a shirt, the plunging v-shaped neckline revealing perfectly smooth skin, and what you noted to be a solitary freckle right in the centre of his collarbone. The trousers, at least from the glimpse that you had allowed yourself when you had met at the entrance to the cafe were of a loose fit, defining his waist at the top and falling to form an almost skirt-like silhouette should he stand how he usually stood: the echoes of what would be called the ‘third position’ in ballet, more relaxed, but still retaining an elegance that only he could carry. The biggest shock to you, however, was Seonghwa’s choice of shoes - a refreshing point to the visual, he had selected to contrast the formalwear with a pair of limited edition, geometrically intriguing Converses. You could catch a glimpse of one of them from over the edge of the table whenever his slightly shaking leg, positioned over the other, would rock forwards just that tiny bit stronger.

While the setting was meant to be casual, the circumstances in which you found yourself were nothing short of miraculous. Never in a million years would you have imagined for it to be possible to be sat across the table from, quite possibly, one of the most legendary contributors to art restoration, collection and exhibition. On top of that, Seonghwa was a figure who actively bridged the gap between disparate communities, finding a common language, and using the arts as a salvation. You were in awe, and could not hold back on regarding the handsome vampire as he quietly reported your and his orders to the waiter who had floated to your table.

“Are you sure you do not want anything else?”

“Yes, I am sure. I do not wish to exploit your kindness-”

“-Not at all. I hope you do not mind that I… must make a rather unconventional order,” he smiled sheepishly, clearing his throat so as to attempt to hide his doubts, though you were uncertain as to how much of such emotions could possibly be left after what had to have been centuries.

“An unconventional order is pouring a sugary energy drink into a triple shot espresso and calling it dinner,” you answered, eyes travelling from Seonghwa’s face to the mural on the wall a few tables away that wrapped behind him and to your left, disrupted only by the occasional floor length window that provided city vistas - rather gloomy, compared to the optimistic illumination of the restaurant. Perhaps out of pity, or out of genuine entertainment, Seonghwa chuckled.

“That does sound like an acquired taste, indeed. Thank you,”

“No need. Thank you for inviting me,” you turned back, nodding a polite bow as he softly waved your gesture off.

A silence settled across the table as you waited for your respective drinks. Your hand, had you not consciously restrained yourself, would have probably reached for the phone that you stored in your purse, but now was fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt, finding the buttons to stress test the threads that had them sewn tight to the fabric. You were not bored, in fact, far from it. You needed a barrier. The grandeur of this man’s presence was almost overwhelming. He was not a mere individual in a room, he consumed it. Had you just walked in, you were certain that your gaze would still settle on his form. Just like the concrete outside was grey, and the pause retained a divine ambiguity, Seonghwa was unforgettable. In an attempt to calm your clouded thoughts, you studied the mural once more.

“May I inquire into your thoughts on the decor?”

“The choice of ‘A Sunday on La Grande Jatte’ is wise. I am guessing you were the one to make the decision?” you heard an exhale, and once more your attention was captured.

“Alas, I cannot take full accolades for this. This stemmed from a discussion that a good friend of mine and I had one late night. Seurat just so happened to make an appearance amidst the chatter, and so… this was born,” he gestured at the surroundings. Clearly, the interior was picked carefully to fit the theme of the legendary painting.

From the colours to the textures and the greenery that had been intricately set up across the restaurant, every detail had a meaning and a place, and did not take away from the spaciousness of the hall. It was breathable, while still giving the illusion that you were stepping into a whimsical impressionist paradise. Perhaps that was another reason why you could not quite contain your disbelief firstly in your encounter, secondly in its progression, and thirdly in your interlocutor’s warmth.

“Spectacular, truly. I have heard you have an eye for detail, however this surpasses all expectations.”

“Oh? There is more you have heard?” he interjected, leaning closer to you and placing an elbow on the table, simply to rest his head on his hand. While this could potentially be seen as slightly unceremonious, it hinted at well-kept confidence, ownership, control. A healthy undercurrent of motivation that came with indirect praise.

“I-oh y-yeah of course,” you did not mean to stutter, but some part of you was grateful you did, for the smirk that had threatened to burst on Seonghwa’s lips was enough for you to feel ignited to elaborate, “if my memory is not failing me, you were the one to distinguish a reproduction of a piece some time ago, no?”

“Ah- yes. That was a Degas reproduction. I must say, the attempt was sincere, however when I saw the-, hm, you will not be startled, will you?”

“Please,” you urged him to continue, intrigued by the story.

“When I saw the original, as it was being made and when it had been finalised, it would be shameful of me to not spot a fake,” he fell back into his chair, just in time for the drinks to be served.

A coffee for you, and a non-descript beverage concealed by a semi-opaque, tall glass for him. Though, you did not need to be a detective to guess what it was that Seonghwa was bringing to his lips, and what he took a tentative sip of. The only mystery that was remaining for you was what ‘type’ he had picked - was it O+? B-? Whatever else? You joined him in the tasting, lifting the mug and indulging in the wonderful aroma of your americano. It did not strike you as necessary to opt for something fancier and lie to yourself - so you settled for your regular order, much to your joy. Familiar taste and the reliability of the caffeine hitting your system painted the scene in more comforting colours, and gradually, you found yourself easing into the dialogue more and more, until life stories, musings and a surprisingly large common ground came pouring.

You discovered that Seonghwa possessed a unique sensitivity and attunement to those around him. Focused on the emotional experiences, he felt through time and could recount emotions like the memory was from a mere few days, rather than decades ago. He was well-spoken, eloquent, intelligent, polite in every right as he navigated through the linguistic landscape and guided you like a partner in a dance. You were spiralling oh so quickly, intrigue catching up to you and prompting you to sacrifice all of your senses to the man and the pleasantly intoxicating atmosphere he captured you in. He was enchanting, and it was far too easy to give in.

“May I reveal something?” in a hushed tone, he inquired, a finger absent-mindedly tracing the rim of his glass.

“Oh, a little secret?” you raised your eyebrows in jest, lightening the initial seriousness with which Seonghwa uttered the question.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Depends on how you take it. A confession might be more accurate,” he waited for you to take the final sip of your coffee before continuing, unphased by your unwavering focus, “if I were to be honest, I have been meaning to approach you.”

“Pardon?”

“As you know we have a… common awareness of each other thanks to what is housed under this roof, but ever since we first unknowingly crossed paths… I wanted to speak to you.”

Confused, you did not speak, though the words contained an unparalleled affection within them. What could he possibly mean? You chose to refrain from commenting, your hesitation prompting the vampire to continue.

“Do you remember the most recent opening night? Of the exhibition? I believe you were with someone…” he trailed off, hoping you would continue for him.

“Ah, yes, a friend of mine from university. So?”

“This might sound strange but, I distinctly remember you mentioning a name. An artist from the same era, dubbed as L/N Y/N?”

“Goodness, you overheard that? I am so sorry, it is just that said artist has intrigued me for some time, and I was half-hoping to encounter their work. Maybe it is because our names are the same but still….”

“Elusive, aren’t they?”

“To put it softly, yes. I only vaguely recall seeing… maybe one piece in my lifetime, when I was little, and then… nothing. And there is barely any information on the artist online, let alone libraries and archives.”

“Hm, indeed. I guess that makes two of us…”

“Two of us who are searching?”

“That’s right. It brought me happiness to know that I am not alone in this endeavour.”

“Then we can keep searching together.”

While you were positive that you could not conceal your interest, Seonghwa’s did not go unnoticed either. It was of course possible that he was simply well-versed in political correctness, but the burning depth of his pupils told you otherwise. Enthrallment, the discovery of a kindred spirit, recognition, the rekindling of a bond that had existed at some point long ago - all fantasies that played out in your mind as you returned that look with subtle fervour. You wondered how many people he graced with those charms. How many had succumbed to his influence, becoming a marker on his infinite life path, a fleeting second? How many had his lips known, how many had turned into a decadent treat for a genius man with natural peculiarities? While the researcher part of you was perplexed and aching for answers, the you that was caught in the moment simply let it go on, and the feeling of Seonghwa’s leg brushing against yours, and the pride blooming in your chest as he praised the few articles and papers you had published upon having claimed that he ‘knew some things about you too’ preoccupied you in the most magnificent way.

Naturally, you agreed to meet Seonghwa again. On your journey home, in the privacy of the anonymous metro, immersed in the cacophony of deafening rails and the millions travelling to anywhere, you pressed your phone to your racing heart as the vampire, the man, the beguiling Park Seonghwa sent you a message confirming so. Who knew a simple selection of words could be so captivating?

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

Under the comforting thrum of raindrops on the large umbrella, you walked down the streets of the grey-coloured city, your hand lightly holding onto Seonghwa’s arm while he ensured that both of you were protected from the elements. Despite the dull light and bitterness of the cooling season, Seonghwa appeared radiant, truly timeless with every gesture and stride. The elegant angles of his face that you could tirelessly study stood out against the monotone buildings and overcast skies. His voice drowned out the sound of droplets racing one another to the ground. A miraculous gentleman who appeared in your life much like a portrait, or a landscape - a masterpiece you wanted to explore in every spare moment, and better yet, this masterpiece was equally as open to you as you were to him.

“...essentially, yes. It is like another nationality. A marker of species isn’t too far isn’t it? Just another line on a stack of documents. Nothing more,” Seonghwa concluded his explanation, pursing his lips for a moment before letting an exhale turned dragon’s breath escape into the afternoon.

“Makes sense. So would that mean there are separate medical papers and treatment too?”

“Well… when regeneration fails us or when a given case is severe enough… yes. Though it is handled by private clinics run by other vampires.”

“There are private clinics?”

“Of course. Often they are connected to donation points too, and that is how we remain on the right side of the law and stay alive,” he nodded to himself, giving you a bittersweet smile when he noticed confusion overtake your gaze. “Blood,” he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, “I mean blood.”

In a nervous stupor, you cleared your throat and focused on a droplet that was hanging onto the edge of the umbrella, right in front of you, all the way until the gentle motion of Seonghwa’s amble provoked its abrupt descent onto the stone under your feet.

“Ah, yes, I see-”

“If you find this disturbing, we can forget the conversation ever-”

“-I want to know you better, Seonghwa, truly-”

“Careful-”

“Sorry wha-”

With an extraordinary swiftness, you were tugged abruptly by the arm. Not registering your surroundings, you merely went with the inertia, caught off-guard by the proximity of your face to the vampire’s as he held you against him with the arm that you had previously been resting your own on. A hand that you raised on instinct went limp and landed on Seonghwa’s chest, feeling the thick felted wool of his coat. The ringing of a bell, going farther away from you by the second, incessant but at least waking you up from the blur, was enough for you to put two and two together - a cyclist who thought they owned every part of the street, like always. You sighed.

“Reckless… my apologies I did not mean to-” Seonghwa tried to detangle himself, refusing to remain in your personal space for longer than necessary no matter how much he did want to, but his efforts were reduced to nothing when your hand moved to a hold on his upper arm - reassuring, comfortable, accepting.

“Thank you,” you interrupted, “that bike would have definitely run into me…”

“It’s nothing,” a low chuckle echoed in your ears as Seonghwa peered into your pupils, confidence that had previously wavered out of habitual caution now restored, growing into a pride as you continued to hold onto him, “the man was slow enough for there to be no risk of harm. I hope you are not too startled though.”

“Oh? You have super powers too? Do elaborate,” you jested, resuming your walk.

“I would call it more like… being a finely tuned machine. Can’t say I have bad reaction speed. Though I must say, it was a little challenging pulling you out of the way,” there was an evident intent behind the words. However, you were too curious to pay it any mind, instead preferring to find out their meaning live.

“How so?”

“I think this,” dropping his arm, Seonghwa’s hand reached for yours, and without a moment of hesitation, his fingers were intertwining with yours, his palm pressed against yours, “would be better. You know, for safety.” As if you could ever reject him. This was a fact you had established for yourself with an unprecedented certainty. His gallant disposition, attentiveness all confirmed a care for you that was impossible to ignore.

There was something picturesque about the present after meeting this wonderful, infinite pool of art and humanity. You found yourself leafing through articles, art books and biographies with a more wistful and sentimental perspective, imagining what it would be like if it were you who was immortalised in the thousands of brushstrokes, or if you were on the other side of the canvas, how would you go about depicting the scenes unfolding before your very eyes. Timelessness - a quality shared between the art you so adored, and the man you had encountered and over the weeks, let your intrigue be transformed into a shy flame of infatuation. Perhaps it was the underlying reason why you did not reject his advances, nor cower in fear of his true nature with which he was upfront. The other, of course, was the search for the mysterious artist, an adventure that fuelled many of your dialogues, and prompted you to spend more time in the library and the archives of your university than you had ever done before - to the point where Seonghwa himself had encouraged you to take a break from your intellectual expeditions and step into the world as a casual observer. So, you let yourself drift; it finally hit you, what scenes your once again tranquil stroll reminded you of, and you smiled to yourself as you recalled the intricacies of the not quite commonly discussed representation of the Impressionist movement.

‘Rue de Paris, temps de pluie’, painted by Gustave Caillebotte; his most famous work. Not quite as widely discussed, despite still technically being created in the Impressionist era, perhaps due to the meandering through form, realism and reliance on stronger lines rather than broad brushstrokes and the study of light. You did find it fascinating how Caillebotte’s passion for photography had seeped into this piece, however. Much like how, in recent days, you could easily find a way to mention Seonghwa in conversation, be it related to the arts or not. From the subjects in the foreground being slightly out of focus while the middle ground was crystal clear, to how the shapes of some passersby were cropped were all characteristic of photos, rather than paintings, making this particular work all the more dear to you. It was a reflection of life, of behaviour and of what had been daily back in the late nineteenth century.

Was it any different from now, aside from those grand, global topics that historians dedicated their lives to studying? If one were to whittle down to the intricacies, the miniatures that ornamented the span of a human existence, was it so terribly far away from what you were born into, and Seonghwa saw develop and had adopted? How people shielded themselves from the rain with umbrellas, and then used them as a tool to isolate themselves from other urbanites who were in a rush to take a day-long route out of their homes… and back again. The latest silhouettes of dress and accessory; the same rush to be with the times as now.

You felt your companion’s arm move, prompting you to let go and leave your hand hovering as though you were awaiting some kind of change. You bit back an unprecedented sliver of disappointment, only to be caught by surprise once again as you felt the hand settle on the small of your back. Cautious, like you were going to melt from any more pressure than the brush of a feather. A quick glance was enough to determine that you were being studied intently for any sign of discomfort - Seonghwa was ready to pull away at any moment, any sigh, and most definitely at any word. A meek smile settled on your lips, and you shyly used an oncoming stranger as an opportunity to affirm the gesture, stepping towards the vampire, and sensing the confidence of his protective measure be solidified. With glee he followed your every tilt and turn, angling away from the passing form that neither of you could focus on. The touch was electric, somehow monumental despite being so common and barely present. Your mind was on fire, pondering what it would be like to put your head on the elegant man’s shoulder, and let yourself be carried away into a terrific fairy tale.

“This really is a rainy day,”

“Seems quite sunny to me,” you respond with sarcasm, realising only after the fact that your phrase still did retain an element of truth within it.

Sunshine did not have to be literal. It was easy to see, you just needed to return Seonghwa’s gaze, and watch as another spring flower blossomed in the soul of one you had initially assumed to be so cold, so distant. In the darkest winter was a safe haven that you could not help but lean into, and regardless of what you had initially thought, with him, you felt more human, more safe and alive than ever. He listened without fail to your ramblings, and could easily pick up the ball and balance it with his own musings that you could listen to for many lifetimes.

Lifetimes; immortality, the one concept you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Well, the latter was technically not true, as Seonghwa had elaborated some few days ago: vampires did age, albeit at such a slow pace that to the run of the mill human being, it was impossible to notice, and if they did, it would be someone very close, and only over a matter of decades. Maybe it was this exact inability that made you want to stay and learn all there could be about the gallerist - you thought that would make you feel like you have been living forever. His wisdom was beautiful. The kindness with which he treated you, akin to that of how a spouse treats their long-time sweetheart with a mellow and comfortable affection, was not something you asked for nor expected, but something which he introduced himself with through every action, progressively more amiable when you allowed him to advance.

“Mm, no wonder I can’t quite look at you,” he mused out loud, dramatically looking off into the distance. You raised an eyebrow, curious about what was going to come after his theatrical pause, “your brightness is unparalleled,” Seonghwa chuckled, satisfied with your sigh and the way in which you pretended to be annoyed, only to dissolve in a mute giggle. “So, I do suggest we get out of the rain for a moment and stop by that book shop over there, shall we?”

Following his hand, you spotted an antique bookshop a few doors down, marked by an iron sign and ornate shop window decorations that glistened with each hit of the dancing droplets. A warm golden light emanated from the inside, the hue comparable to a summer’s day. An odd feeling of deja vu washed over you, as though you had been in this store before, even though this was quite the distance away from your home, not on any of your usual commutes and in a part of town you barely visited aside from the occasional brisk walk. It had been established over a century ago, sporting a historical plaque and detailing original to the era the date on the sign suggested. Suppressing your internal monologue, you simply nodded, fond of Seonghwa’s excitement as he pushed lightly against your back and walked on ahead. If you were any more of a romantic, you would have assumed that the shop was a representation of his heart, but you couldn’t allow yourself to think that way, at least not when you felt heat rise to your cheeks as he whispered your name, openly planning what you could look for amidst the rare editions together. You and him turned into a ‘we’ so naturally, you barely had time to blink. A new brushstroke on a canvas, brave, bold and bright. Impressionist.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

The hypnotising improvisation on a semi-acoustic guitar, followed by a launch back into the theme of a well-known jazz song had you tapping on the counter, unknowingly following every drum beat. The bar turned cosy music venue that Seonghwa had invited you out to was proving to be every bit a wonder of the world, and paradise inside of the otherwise gloomy city which had been plagued with miserable weather and lack of daylight for atrociously long. The classy establishment was a well known favourite among the vampires residing in the city, especially those aligned with a more bohemian and art-focused lifestyle. Critics, painters, collectors, musicians, poets alike all gathered to share ideas and energy, and reminisce days long gone, while the band - one that had not changed since the bar’s establishment, revived legendary pieces one after another.

With ease, Seonghwa had ordered your favourite drink, having memorised it after your many outings that had smoothly transitioned into dates and shared nights. He remembered every detail about you, holding each one tenderness. Your lover gazed at you as he ended a conversation with a fellow collector who had recently come to town for a few days, stretching out his hand until it just touched yours, guiding it to lie flat on the counter. Seonghwa’s palm, still retaining a pleasant coolness despite him having had a couple of drinks of his own, was another reassurance that in the buzz of the venue, you still had your person by your side. Feeling his digits tap and then proceed to brush the back of your hand, you hummed in contentment, and let your eyes travel over the beautiful vampire, who leaned back, tempting you just for fun, knowing full well that you were wholly his, and even when you turned to look elsewhere, it was his face you saw in the crowd, it was his voice that rang in your ears, it was his touch that ghosted over your skin.

The bustier from Alexander McQueen, the gorgeous flowy shirt with ruffles and cuts so tastefully sewn and executed, the statement necklace that was worthy of being displayed at a gallery and must be the envy of many, the high heeled boots that were concealed by elegant trousers - Seonghwa was your favourite work of art, and you could never deny it. Each one of his gestures was worthy of marvel, and the care with which he approached everything - even the tending to the items which he painstakingly selected and matched for tonight made your heart skip a beat. It was boggling how each garment and accessory was either an original, or a one of a kind piece. But at the same time, you did not expect anything less of Seonghwa.

He must be impossible to depict in paintings, you concluded, shamelessly staring at your lover’s face, from the shape of his nose, to the plushness of his lips, to the waviness of his night-like inky locks. You bet many had tried, but judging by the lacking evidence in the art world, they must have failed, miserably, to create something more immortal and invincible than the model and muse. You understood them, and Seonghwa gave no signs of being perturbed.

“So, was that the intent behind our spontaneous trip to this bar tonight?” you gestured at your surroundings, taking another sip from your ornate glass. A sharp exhale accompanied a contrasting soft answer:

“Not at all,I had the business sorted a couple of days ago, and tonight was a lucky crossing of paths to secure the deal,” cryptic as ever, Seonghwa only alluded to the matter at hand.

The matter, or how he had referred to it as ‘business’ was a particular artwork that he had been hunting, by the elusive artist you had been investigating, first in your lonesome, and then joining forces with Seonghwa. Apparently, one of the pieces, by some stroke of unimaginable luck, had been kept safe in the private collection of a ‘Mister Kim’, at least that was how he had been initially introduced to you. Until you put two and two together, and when the very well dressed and styled character had entered the bar and made a beeline towards your partner in artistic musings and romance, recognised the man as a world-famous designer and fashion icon, Kim Hongjoong. And of course, another vampire and kind soul in one.

Their conversation had happened outside of your earshot; whether it was on purpose or just so happened to unfold that way was for your ruminations to determine, but you did overhear enough to figure out that this was a portrait, a never seen work, and was completed by the artist who as it had turned out had been closer with Seonghwa than you had initially thought.

“Seems to be very important, and not just in a ‘collector’ sense…” you trailed off, watching as the ice in your drink cracked, “is this why you were interested, you know, back then?”

“If I were to be honest, darling, I was, and still am, a lot more interested in you. The artist was something of an excuse to get a conversation going. And I do hope,” Seonghwa turned and sauntered towards you, “this conversation does not end.”

Even though you were sitting on one of the bar stools, the heels and stance still left him some room to look downwards, and his sultry expression, orbs glinting at you through dark lashes left you transfixed. In moments such as this, you hated to be mortal. There were so many things that you could not possibly know, and no matter how hard you would try to comprehend the vastness of the angelic man’s mind, you would always remain theoretical, and accept the grand majority of intricacies as axiom.

“I hope so too,” your voice barely rose above a whisper as his gloved hand landed on your neck, gliding upwards to caress your jawline.

“I’m so glad I found you,” his thoughts were elsewhere, you were sure of it, and yet, his gaze remained unwavering, “my eternal love”. Lips stained with bittersweet worship, the words stumbled from them to strike you repeatedly in the heart, forcing it to lose its rhythm. He was regarding you like he had stumbled upon a priceless treasure, a divinity, a paradise. Something far from you and from this planet, but by Seonghwa’s careful selection, etched in your features.

Were you the embodiment of something greater for him? You would not consider yourself to be a model example of a human being, neither were you a pretty statue to display in an exhibition. You were you, but Seonghwa kept on convincing you that it was exactly this that had captivated him and showed him a new beginning. Did you wish to believe that? Of course. But a vampire who was hundreds of years old could keep a grand variety of secrets beyond your understanding, even if he were to exclaim them right in front of you and sketch them out. His eternal love - your version of eternity, or his? A life the duration of a butterfly’s abstract dance to the heavens.

“Love?” he called out to you, eyebrows knitted in concern due to your prolonged silence. You had set your drink down, and were staring at the shine of the glossy chrome silver and pearl on Seonghwa’s necklace. “Talk to me, say anything.”

“I- hm. I think I am just tired. Yeah, that must be it. Tired so I am overthinking, no worries. I’ll just be right here and-”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you tilted your head, noting how Seonghwa immediately straightened out, and instead of attempting to tower over you stepped over to the side to set a protective hand over yours.

“This is a majority vampire bar, full of unfamiliar individuals, this whole deal with the artwork is up in the air and-”

“First of all, I don’t care. Second, you are here with me. And third, I want to trust in the fact that you would not do anything foolish nor harmful. Am I right in my evaluation?” you uttered, still not quite able to look into Seonghwa’s infinite pools of brilliant sienna and dark brown.

“I- I am honoured, but that still does not detract from the fact that we can go get some air and come back. Shall we?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to. Hell, need to. Let us have a quick wander?”

“...I’d like that.”

In no time, the winter air hit your cheeks and you were wrapping yourself as tightly as you could in your oversized coat. In your ears the pleasant sound of the vampire’s heels rang out, echoed by the stunning road onto which you were spat out by the heavy black front door of the bar. Warm-toned streetlights liberally decorated the sidewalks and painted the night in honey, gold and copper accents. Reflections of an artificial summer in the puddles and winter chill. Downright magical. Seonghwa seeked out your hand, holding it tight and guiding it into the pocket of his own coat, smirking when you raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing at all.”

You were certain that you were walking through a landscape painting, every element captured by your vision falling into its rightful place, harmonising with the rest. The mumbling and music was long gone, only to be replaced by conversation of other late city explorers and the occasional rumbling of a car lazily rolling past.

“Pissarro.”

“Hm?” Seonghwa kept looking ahead, but squeezed your hand to ask for you to continue.

“Boulevard Montmartre at Night. Painted in 1897, no?” you pointed at the surroundings with a tilt of the chin.

“Ah, indeed! Your perceptiveness never ceases to amaze me.”

“Well, thanks to you I got to see the original, so how could I not make the visual analogy?” you nudged his shoulder, earning a chuckle.

The painting was the only example of a landscape at night from the artist Camille Pissarro, making it all the more special despite it being part of a series of 14 views of the same location. Snow, rain, fog, morning, varying seasons, but only one glimmering night. It was one of the works that Seonghwa had managed to provide for your studies, resulting in a more than impressive academic outcome. Like Pissarro kept on painting the vista, your lover kept on giving, never asking for anything more than for you to share your hours with him, something you did not need to be prompted to do anyways.

“...I’m sorry I cannot reveal more than I do, at least not just yet,” he apologised, as though what he was committing was the greatest crime known to humanity and the supernatural.

As you looked up at the starry night sky, you swore you had heard these words before, uttered by the same voice, the same fingers interlocked with yours. A stabbing sensation in your cranium made you gasp, but you regained your composure quickly enough to not make it a priority for either of you. At the same time, Seonghwa’s expression altered to a semblance of… hope? Longing? You could not pinpoint it, but one of the many glowing dots above you clearly landed in his shining orbs, and he eagerly waited.

Waited for longer than you could realise in your present state.

On their own accord, your lips moved, forcing out a subconscious acknowledgement, previously suppressed. You swore the phrase belonged to another being, but it was as refreshing as the breeze tousling Seonghwa’s locks.

“I know. I can wait too.”

“Soon, my love.”

“I-I know.”

“I miss you.”

“I-” vision growing hazy, you reached to the vampire for support, which he readily provided, “I- too.”

One blink - oil paints decorated your hands, and those alluring eyes were staring back at you from a canvas. Another blink - Seonghwa was repeating your name, pressing his cheek against yours as he shielded you from falling into darkness with his strong arms.

______ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⋆ .

Your office was inviting and offered a secure haven: a collection of neutral and wooden tones, with dashes of greenery to relax the eyes. From a potted ivy plant settled on the top of a large wall-length shelving unit to an indoor palm tree enjoying the rays in its designated corner, the room was a miniature paradise. You ran your hands over the thick birch desk, cautiously avoiding the stack of documents you had arranged for yourself to go through this day. Artwork restoration reports, contracts, exhibition plans for years to come… everything you thought you would never see, and yet it was right here in your palms.

Time moved slower, or at least that was how you began to perceive it now that it was in abundance. A fountain that did not cease to bestow gifts upon you - again, something you would have never imagined prior to the curious series of events that were your previous life unfolding the way they did. One fateful meeting, and you were a changed person, staring into the horizon and labelling it as a continuation rather than as a termination of all you could achieve. The world was your oyster, and loving dedication was the price. But when the price was so sweet, and so easy, who were you to say no? If you had to pick a concern, it would be the bandages and binding on your right arm; friction from the sleeve of the turtleneck and blazer you had worn today applying uncomfortable pressure to the delicate wound concealed within.

You stood up from the leatherbound office chair, adjusting your clothes and stepping to the window behind you to look out at the garden belonging to the gallery - a recent expansion. Grand, regal, and as the papers had emphasised, now returned to its rightful owner. You wondered just how much of the city had belonged to vampires at least for a portion of time, and you had no doubt that you would be making more discoveries soon, but for the time being, you were happy with the re-acquisition, or as Seonghwa had called it: your ‘turning’ gift. A particularly strong shift of the arm made you wince, and your other hand shot to nurse your sore arm.

“I’m so sorry darling, does it still hurt?” Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had slipped into the office, and immediately rushed towards you, concern painting his beautiful face through furrowed brows and a tiny scowl.

“N-no, barely. The sweater is silly-”

“Let’s not disregard ailments, shall we?” your partner gingerly lifted your arm, and after gaining permission through a few lethargic nods, pushed the sleeve upwards to reveal the bandages, “I- really, we need to apply the ointment again, that must be it-”

“Seonghwa-”

“Work can wait, I just need to-”

“My love-” Seonghwa paused his ramblings to stare back at you, puzzled, “it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Literally just a bite, isn’t it?” you smiled, the action instantly being mirrored, albeit with a tinge of remaining worry.

“Mm, perhaps I am overreacting, I can’t help it,” your thoughts were numbed by the silken touch of his lips on the back of your hand, wool against cotton as he pulled you into an embrace, “it should heal well once you get used to your new form, I am sure of it,” his tresses tickled your nose, but you ignored it, instead letting your head fall against him.

You stood almost completely still aside from the rocking side to side that was habitual for you both. A lulling motion, one that either of you revealed only to each other. A secret reserved for intimate, loving moments such as this. You shook your head in amusement and buried your nose in Seonghwa’s sweater, inhaling the aroma of his sweet perfume, recalling ‘Love and Pain’ - the painting that had marked the tightening of the invisible string tying you together. Or was it? Coincidentally, on the wall behind your lover was the real inception of your union, one that you had forgotten from one lifetime to the next. A portrait. The one that Seonghwa had been chasing, and what had been his decades-long mission came to an end.

Signed with your own hand, were initials of your name and the year of completion of the painting. None other than the beloved collector and muse, Park Seonghwa, who had posed for you, or rather a version of you, and ever since then, you were the only one on his mind. You had been the master both of the arts and of his fate.

“Please, I am embarrassed…” your partner mumbled, settling for futile attempts to position you in such a way that you would be looking out at the garden, but to no avail. Poking him playfully at the side, you induce a halt, and question him:

“What is there to be embarrassed about? That’s you. Painted by me.”

“Exactly. And you have it in your office, of all places.”

“Well I can’t exactly have you, in the flesh, on display all the time and I would like a work of art around here-”

“Shh-”

“Don’t shush me, Park. Be grateful I don’t keep the sketches out too.”

In all honesty, He would not mind if you did. You could do anything, and the vampire would adore and honour it. Whether it was in your blood or in his nature, he had never regretted almost losing himself in your favour. In your last life, he had gone against all rules set up by vampires, playing against what he swore was the devil in order to have the sliver of a chance to start again and, this time not lose you. Had his plan not succeeded, it was highly probable that he would have been erased from this planet too. But he would rather call himself a masochist than be law-abiding when it came to you.

“Next, you’ll be threatening me with a showcase of just my face-”

“What if I do?” you quipped, pulling back to boop his nose with yours, “I think it would look very pretty. Besides, now that I remember my apparent mastery of the visual arts, can’t I be a tiny bit proud, hm?”

“I would be terribly disappointed if you weren’t. Now, may I put that ointment on you?”

As if you could refuse those sparkling eyes. Promptly following him to the loveseat, which unfortunately for Seonghwa was situated right under the portrait, you sat down and waited. Your partner rushed to the medical cupboard - another new addition installed exclusively to support you as you were getting used to the vampiric nuances in your day to day. With well-practised motions, the required kit was in his hands, and in a blink, set down on the plush cushioning of the miniature sofa. You held back a chuckle as you saw the pout you so loved appear as he focused on unwinding the bandage with utmost care. Before you could feel any hurt, Seonghwa would already let go, or alter the angle at which he was tugging on the material. As soon as the plaster was peeled, you were met with the reason for your eternity and reawakening.

Two deep punctures, still a little irritated, not quite healed, but nevertheless a marking of your future and something you regarded with fondness. Wounds did not hurt when they were merely physical, especially not when you had someone who had bound their immortality to yours to tend to them. Seonghwa bit his lower lip, discontented with the ache as though he could feel it too, and took numerous pauses while cleaning up the wound to glance at you.

“I’ll be applying the ointment now, tell me if it stings, okay?”

“Okay,” you knew it wouldn’t. You had never heard a man be so adamant on checking ingredients at an apothecary before following Seonghwa after your first appointment as a vampire. But just to appease him, you followed this small spoken routine.

“You know… I was scared,” his voice was barely audible, and he could not look at you.

“What were you scared of?”

“Losing you again.”

“Well, I am here, aren’t I?”

Even before you were aware of Seonghwa, let alone the truth behind the portrait, all the roads still led to the same resolution. The arts, art history. Virtually synonymous, for without creation, there would not be the past, and without the study of the past, there would not be the celebration and respect of creation. Finally, you understood the beauty of evolution that Seonghwa had undergone all while remaining the same vulnerable yet legendary figure, dedicated to his vision of the arts, having recollected your own.

“So many things could have gone wrong,” Seonghwa’s mind was reeling from the sheer terror of possibility. He had taken advantage of his high social standing as an aristocrat and pulled rank to avoid waiting for any ritual guides to step in - it was not the first time, but still only the second. And both cases were related to you.

The first time might have been a foolish decision in retrospect, but considering the dire circumstances the extreme solution was the only one. With one foot crossing to the afterlife he was combatting the reapers, and was not going to let go of you even if it meant being pulled in. This time, when you had approached him a number of nights ago with your final agreement to his tentative proposal and kissed his ruminations away, he was ready. Years of study were not going to waste, after all. And yet when he studied the same irises as those from a time long gone, when he held the same hands, his blood ran even colder. What a gambling man he had been back then. The procedure to regift life to you had been risky, and Seonghwa, having never practised those elements of the dark arts bestowed upon his kind, had been taking shot after shot in the dark. How dare he play with your being like that? How dare he hold your existence on a sinful scale?

“But they didn’t.”

No they did not. Your confidence in him had aided considerably, he had to admit. The positioning of his fangs was perfect, and he had memorised all incantations down to the inflections. Second time a charm, but much more anxiety-inducing. Turning was not the same as revival, either. He could not stop himself from imagining the many scenarios of where he would have gone wrong, and cemented your identity only as a name on manuscripts, dissertation, paintings and reports.

“Even the ritual, what if you did not remember-”

“I would love you just the same. Whether I had all my memories or not. That much I can assure you of. That is why I trusted you in the first place, Seonghwa.”

You did not need to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking. All you could do was suggest a brighter palette, and be by his side no matter what colour scheme he were to decide on. It was an artist’s duty to know when to set the tools aside and consider a painting finished. The luxury of a collector was to live through many paintings, unify the souls contained in each and sustain a chronology of expression. The keepers, the scholars, made to observe change rather than induce it directly. This was why you were all the more grateful for Seonghwa daring to change your mortal fate not once but twice, risking himself and his image in your favour.

When your partner was satisfied with his medical care, he hummed to notify you and began to clear up, at least until you placed a weak hand on his leather-clad thigh to gain his full attention. He searched for a hint in your features, eyes darting across your face at lightning speed. Relief came when you grinned brightly, whispering sincere gratitude.

Impressionism - the movement and path made by legends. A rejection of traditional practice, a new vision and interpretation of the outside world in the hues of the soul. Light, reality, immediate action. A breath that reset the arts, magnificent and radical for the time, and now, much adored. From its conception to its establishment, you were there to witness and fall in love, and now could look back at the beauty that had bloomed. His irises, your favourite colour. The speckles of various shades, your favourite details. You stared into Seonghwa’s eyes and did not dare blink. Your favourite impression.

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